#and they finally have an answer for the family

[alchemistc]

The call comes in just after 2 PM, and Tommy's in the air five minutes later. White male, early thirties, took a tumble off the incline at one of the intermediate hiking points near Griffith Park, the engine can't winch him up without exacerbating his injuries.

It's a quick flight. Nothing remarkable at all, until Hurst has been down on the ground for a few minutes too long and then Tommy's captain is on the radio asking him to hand over the controls to his copilot the moment he lands at Presbyterian.

He's pissed about it the entire length of time it takes for the winch to pull up Hurst and their new passenger - time and a half for a 48 hour stretch isn't anything to scoff at.

And then he hears Hurst rattling off information as the door shuts, and he's desperately trying to remind himself that no amount of outside noise has ever distracted him before.

Evan Buckley, 33, moderate concussion, sprained ankle, three broken fingers, possible broken ribs, pulse is steady but BP is trending high.

Happy fucking Thanksgiving.

---

Tommy's phone rings as they're making the handoff at, and he answers more out of habit than anything else. It's Cap again.

"You can either ride shotgun back and be man behind or I can shift your time and a half somewhere else because you've had a family emergency," Hobbes says, and Tommy would love to have a snappy retort but he's still thinking about the way Buck had come out of it enough to tell Hurst his boyfriend - "ex-boyfriend, sorry" - flies for 217 too. Hobbes clears his throat. "Considering your last family emergency was when I forced you to take a holiday off, I know which one I'd choose."

Tommy blinks. They're almost to the doors.

"I'll see you in a few days, Captain," Tommy murmurs and hauls ass towards the retreating medical team wheeling Buck into the hospital.

---

He'd listened while Hurst and her partner - a loan from 136 he still hasn't actually been introduced to - pumped some pain meds to keep Buck from hurting himself more, but it's still a surprise to see how zonked he looks, pupils wide and eyes glassy as he blinks slow blinks up at the ceiling, the doctors, and Tommy.

Buck tries to tip his head sideways when he catches sight of him, and pulls a face when the C collar impedes the movement. A hand snags out, catches on the seam of Tommy's flight suit, and Tommy can't quite help himself. He reaches out and holds the hand in place.

It's easy to keep pace with the orderly as they leave the elevator, and Tommy knows exactly how many doors he's allowed through before he's got to make his way to the waiting room and figure out where the fuck to go from there.

Buck's face is scraped up good on one side, and the hand not in Tommy's is splinted too much for him to catch the full damage. There's more blood than Tommy can consciously account for in the moment, although most of it looks to be drying. The hand in his squeezes. "S-someone should ca-." He winces. Seems to lose his train of thought. Rolls back around to it right before the final set of doors. "You'll call Tommy?" he asks, a desperation on his face that does something ruinous to Tommy's gut, but the orderly has already slowed down and now she's looking a little like she'll shove Tommy off if he doesn't let go of her patient.

Tommy nods. Squeezes. "I'll call Tommy."

Buck's smile is lopsided and loopy as Tommy lets go of his hand.

"Good," he murmurs, and the doors swing wide and then shut behind him, and Tommy spends a solid five minutes staring at the spot where the red striping in the tile at his feet doesn't quite match up to its neighboring tiles.

---

He's a coward, so he calls Eddie first and puts his foot in it immediately.

"Why was Buck alone on a hike on Thanksgiving?" he asks, before Eddie's even finished his greeting, and he's glad he's stepped outside to make this call. He's not moderating his volume at all.

Eddie pauses. Seems to reboot. "Wait, what?"

Tommy recounts what he knows, which isn't a whole hell of a lot, if he's being honest. "So. When can I expect the cavalry?"

Eddie's silent for a beat too long. "I'm in Texas, Tommy. Is he - is it serious? How bad -?"

"He was conscious. Slightly more than superficial injuries. He'll - recover."

He'll be fine doesn't have the right ring to it, when he's just watched the man wheeled away without even recognizing Tommy.

"He went on a hike? What kind of idiot -?" Eddie asks, and then he's silent for a beat too long. "Tommy, don't take this the wrong way, but if there's even a small part of you telling you to make a break for it, do it now before he has a chance to get his hopes up."

Tommy feels it like the knife it's meant to be. It'd be shutting the door, really - in the short term, he'll remember asking someone to let Tommy know, and he'll assume Tommy didn't show. In the long term he'll remember exactly who he'd spoken to and he'll be pissed enough to make it a clean break.

It hasn't even been a month, and Tommy's out of distractions. No work, no house to clean and reorganize, no engines to tinker with, a phone on half battery.

"I need to call Maddie," he says, and he can hear the echo as Eddie shifts to speaker.

"No need. She's on her way. With like, half the station, apparently." He rattles off what must be a text from the group chat.

Tommy shoves down that familiar ache while Eddie sounds off everyone who is currently in the process of abandoning their holiday dinners to come sit in uncomfortable waiting room chairs and twiddle their thumbs. He should leave. Cut the loose threads, take an Uber home, convince his captain he doesn't need Friday off.

He's silent long enough that Eddie feels the need to check and make sure he's still there. There's an ambulance swinging into the bay thirty feet from where Tommy stands.

"You screwed up," Eddie says, and Tommy grimaces, swallows, ignores the thrum of anxiety pooling in his gut. "Showing up for him now would go a long way towards making a reconciliation viable. If that's something you want."

Tommy doesn't know what the fuck he wants, anymore. He's never allowed himself to have it long enough for it to settle. But he knows how it'd felt to know the first person on Evan's mind in the midst of his pain medication haze was Tommy.

Tommy pulls up the first delivery service app he sees and wonders how big a tip he should give for ordering a dozen coffees an hour before closing time on a national holiday. "You know what everyone's usual coffee order is?"

Eddie adds him to a group chat that's going to drain the rest of his battery before Evan's out of surgery.

>>>Part Two

[notjustjavierpena]

Inés just broke something in the house, what does hubby and wife say????

Mess (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Such a fun writing project, tysm. I missed them terribly! 

Summary: Inés breaks a lamp. Javier has the scare of his life.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Family dynamics, Javier POV, fluff, hurt/comfort, i write to fix my own trauma 

Word count: 1.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52937182/chapters/137384134

Mess

The stack of folded clothes is growing taller whilst the laundry basket on the double bed is emptying out. Javier is enjoying a weekend with time to get housework done before midterms begin at the local college. He is nervous about guiding his students through the exams for the first time since starting his job as a teacher, feeling like he has only just begun his life as an educator and the responsibilities are overwhelming. You’ve sweetly encouraged him each time he’s voiced his concerns to you, told him that his class is lucky to have him whenever he has mumbled about nerves over dishes or during goodnight kisses. 

With your support, he has found that prepping for the exams is best done accompanied by mindless work and he has gone through several tasks on the list saved in his head; groceries have been bought, gutters have been cleaned, and two full baskets of children’s clothes have been washed and dried. He doesn’t want to admit to you that he thinks about the theories behind criminal behavior while folding Sebastian’s tiny socks. 

You are outside with the boys, enjoying the last months of your pregnancy with a book in your lap, laying in the hammock under the large trees. He checks on the three of you often, spotting that you have put down the book as you sway gently to substitute it with watching your children with a hand on your rounded belly. Lucas smiles brightly as he has Sebastian waddling hurriedly after him on the newly mowed grass. The soles of their feet will be green when they come inside later, marking the floorboards that he has just vacuumed but he doesn’t mind. It is evidence of fun, of love and joy. Messes equals life.

Inés is the only one who refuses to go outside. Her giggles and chatter floated up the stairs not too long again, blending with her little feet making the floorboards creak as she paced around with her hobby horse. It offers a rare kind of comfort to be able to hear her having fun while he packs clothes away into dressers and drawers. 

Until he doesn’t hear it anymore. Instead, it is a sudden crash that comes from downstairs and makes Javier tense up. He freezes to listen for her voice calling for him but only silence follows the loud noise. 

“Inés?” He calls. No answer. The t-shirt that he is in the middle of folding falls to the bed and his heartbeat quickens. 

He walks to the open door of the bedroom, grabs the doorframe, and leans out of it to listen again. He calls her name a second time, this time a little louder and more insistently, but there’s still no response. 

In his chest, his heart has started to pound enough for him to be able to hear it in his ears. Many thoughts go through his head at the sound of silence from the living room, firstly images of broken furniture but then finally the picture of his daughter who has fallen and hit her head. Why hadn’t he paid closer attention to her? Why hadn’t he checked on her sooner? 

He is out the door before he even realizes that he is moving, barrelling down the stairs and taking it two steps at a time. Fuck, maybe he could have prevented disaster if he had gone downstairs the second she had gone quiet. He raises his voice without thinking, knuckles whitening as he grips the banister, “Inés? Answer me now!”

When he stumbles into the living room, he first notices the broken lamp, a shattered bulb lying beside the ceramic base on the wooden floor but with no blood on the shards. Next to it, Inés’ hobby horse lies discarded like it has been thrown in a panicked hurry. He furrows his brow, scanning the room to find her. 

When he spots her through the doorway to the dining room, crouched down under the table, relief floods him. She isn’t hurt, no sign of even a scratch on her, but then he sees the way she has her knees pulled up to her chest and her eyes are fixated on the broken lamp. 

She’s scared not of the crash, he realizes, but of him; his shouting, his loud footsteps, the way he had said her name. She looks like she is bracing herself for trouble - more specifically the anger and disappointment in his voice - and she’s covering her ears with little, trembling hands in a way that is unsuccessful in keeping out noise. The sight of her terrified face makes Javier remember the feeling of being unfairly scolded for accidents horribly well, and his heart sinks.

He walks calmly into the dining room, not even thinking about the broken lamp anymore, and kneels on the floor. With his hands on his thighs, he takes a deep breath to steady himself, “Inés, I’m not mad at you. I just want to know if you’re okay, baby.”

His daughter lifts her gaze to meet his eyes. His chest constricts at the sight of the tears in Inés’ wide eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, still immovable. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks softly. 

“I didn’t mean to break it,” she answer in a whisper and shakes her head. She’s always so bold, hilarious, and mischievous but she’s so clearly hiding from him, trying to decide if it’s safe to come out or not. 

“I know you didn’t, mija (my daughter),” he reassures and moves slowly until he holds both hands out to her, palms open towards the ceiling, “It’s just a lamp, okay? Come here, I’m not mad. Just let me take a look at you.”

Javier can only imagine how fast her heart is beating in her chest right now, knowing that he hurried down here with his own racing heartbeat. She must be dizzy from the anxiety just as he is disoriented by his adrenaline. He gestures gently at her, beckoning her to him. 

“I didn’t mean to,” she repeats quietly.

“Lo sé (I know),” he offers her a little reassuring smile, shifting to sit cross-legged on the floor instead, “Can you come out, please?”

With hesitant steps, she moves from under the table and walks straight to him. He expects that he has to ask for a hug but just as she comes to a halt in front of him, she collapses into his arms like they are a harbor in a storm. He squeezes her tightly. 

“I thought you were mad at me, Papá,” she hiccups as her tears wet his shirt. He rests his chin on top of her head, his broad palm stroking her small back. 

“Not at all, baby. You just scared me is all. You didn’t answer and I thought you were hurt,” he explains while pressing gentle kisses to her hair. He inhales slightly, sighing at the way his baby girl smells of love to him. 

“I’m sorry,” she says and practically crawls into his lap. 

“It’s okay,” he replies, cradling her in the same manner as he has done since the day she was placed in his arms for the first time, “It’s just a lamp. Mamá and I can just get a new one but we can’t get a new you.”

“Will you tell her?” She pulls back to look up at him with huge, wet eyes. 

He nods, using his thumb to swipe at the tears on her face, “Yes, I will have to tell her but Mommy doesn’t care about the lamp either. I promise. We care about you. I’ll also tell her that you gave Daddy the scare of his life and made him run down the stairs like a crazy person.”

A tiny, hesitant giggle escapes her and he feels another wave of relief wash over him. She finally smiles and her voice is more steady now, “Silly.”

“Very silly,” he agrees with a smile and runs a palm over her head, threading his fingers through her hair, “But you know what’s not silly though?”

“What?”

“If anything like this ever happens again - if you break something or you get scared - I want you to call for me instead of hiding underneath the furniture. Just say ‘Papá, I need you’ and I’ll be there, okay?” 

She only hesitates for a moment but then nods thoughtfully, “Okay.”

“And hey, te quiero tanto (I love you so much).”

“I love you too, Daddy,” she says, no hesitation this time. 

The two of them stand up from the floor to look at the broken lamp on the floor. Inés makes an uncomfortable face, reaching for Javier’s hand. He holds her hand in his palm, “How about we tell Mom together?” 

“Now?” She widens her eyes but she isn’t crying anymore. 

“Yes now. Watch your feet, alright?” He waits for her to initiate the first step towards the door to the garden. Her eyes are firmly on the floor as they pass the broken ceramic shards. 

Outside, Javier's face is warm in the afternoon sun. There’s a buzz in the air from the cicadas’ singing and the laughter from his two sons. He and Inés find you in the hammock, the book still discarded as you watch your children with fondness but this time, you’ve switched to sitting. 

However, as they approach, your eyebrows knit together when you spot Inés' apprehensive look. You carefully plant your feet on the ground, asking, “Is everything okay?”

Javier glances at his daughter, “Inés has something she wants to tell you.”

She fidgets for a few seconds, looking down at her feet, but when she feels Javier’s hand on her shoulder, she looks up with determination. She confesses quietly but her voice doesn’t waver, “I broke the lamp. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Inés, baby,” your expression softens instantly. With a gentle touch, you brush a strand of hair out of your daughter’s face, “Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”

She shakes her head, “I’m okay. Daddy said you wouldn’t get mad but it is messy all over the floor.” 

“You’re okay and that’s all that matters,” your gaze flickers to Javier, a look warmer than the sun in your eyes. He feels his heart nearly leap out of his chest but he catches himself in interrupting the moment between you. You continue, “Daddy and I don’t mind messes, do we? As long as everyone is okay.”

“Yes,” Inés nods in grateful understanding. 

“How about you sit here with Mommy while I clean the floor?” Javier finally suggests, “Then the living room will be as good as new and you can play in there again?”

“Yes, please,” she says politely, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats. 

“Okay,” you chime in and kiss him softly on the mouth before he heads into the house once more. 

Yes, messes mean life, and Javier is lucky enough to live in a world where life also means love.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[sinofwriting]

Present - Pierre Gasly

Words: 681 Summary: Pierre has some thoughts about her buying herself a necklace.

Masterlist | Support Me!

She claps her hands together as she looks at her phone. The device perfectly angled to capture her, the kitchen counter where an unopened box was, and Pierre who was lounging on the couch answering some emails.

“So, in honor of hitting two hundred and fifty thousand followers and my birthday happening in a few weeks, I decided to get myself a present.” Her eyes are alight with excitement and she bounces a bit, fingers itching to open the box. Meanwhile, Pierre’s head jerks up, eyes wide as he stares at his girlfriend.

“I was a little nervous about getting this.” She starts to say as her fingers open the box. “But y’know it’s like a combined gift for myself and I’ve been really good at not touching my savings for the past few months, so I didn’t feel too bad about dipping in.”

Pierre makes a strangled sound.

Lifting her present out of the box, she presents it to the camera before opening the box. “Isn't it gorgeous?” She moves it a bit closer before continuing to talk.

“This from Cartier, it’s the Galanterie de Cartier necklace, which is nearly thirty thousand dollars and this is only my second time seeing it in person and I’m just even more in love with it. I’ve been looking at this necklace for a few years now and while I love my pink Les Berlingots de Cartier necklace.” As she says it, she gestures to the necklace she’s currently wearing. “It was time to give it a nice little sibling in the Cartier family.”

“Mon bébé,” Pierre starts, finally able to speak. “You didn’t actually buy that did you?”

She turns to face him with a confused look. “Yeah, I did.”

“With your money?”

“Yeah, with my money.”

He covers his face for a second. “Baby, I leave my card for you all the time to get things for yourself. You should have used my card, it's what it’s meant for.”

“I didn’t need to, it was a gift for myself.”

“Your gift for yourself, is something I’m supposed to pay for.” He argues, nearly pouting. “I was also going to buy that for you for your birthday. I was planning on going to the store tomorrow.”

Her face softens at his admission. While her buying it had been a present to herself, she also knew it would rile her boyfriend up and she didn’t often share things like this with her fans as they were more there for her talking about books, but she had thought it’d be a fun little thing to film, to let his and her fans see.

“You knew I wanted this?”

“Of course, I do. You’ve shown me pictures before and talked about it. I know you also like the 1895 necklace that Cartier does, but not just any 1895 necklace, only the one from that collection. You want that birthstone bracelet from Tiffany’s and a large collection of collectors edition books when we finally have a house and you can have your own library and reading place. I know everything you want.”

Her heart melts at his words. Pierre was sweeter than most people gave him credit for and he often showed that side of himself to her, but she had no idea how much he paid attention to things she wanted.

“C’mere.” She murmurs, setting her necklace on the counter, arms outstretched.

He easily swings his body over the back of the couch and grabs at her hips as soon as she’s in arms reach before kissing her.

“Is this close enough for you?” He asks when they break away to breathe.

Her teeth find her bottom lip as she shakes her head slowly. “I think you can get closer.”

Pierre smirks at the response, capturing her lips in another kiss as he moves one of his legs between hers. “How about you stop recording for tiktok and we record something else?”

A laugh leaves her at his words, but she’s already reaching for her phone. “Only if I get to be on top.”

“Deal.”

[bloggerspam]

Val is angrily pumping a jack to lift a car up when Jay comes running into the garage.

"Val!" She ignores him, unfastening the wheel with rough, jerky movements.

"Val, listen to me—" Jay starts, laying a hand over her shoulder in a bid for her to turn to face him.

She slaps it off, tossing the punctured wheel away with a grunt and a bang. She takes a deep breath.

"You have some nerve," Val shuts her eyes, "to fuck this up so badly."

"He's not answering my texts." Jay paces back and forth behind her, even without seeing it's apparent in the way the air starts shifting abruptly, how his voice travels to her left and right. "I was in the middle of something, a, a family thing and couldn't really answer with a full explanation."

Val focuses on taking deep, calming breaths. She knows that it was a misunderstanding, she does. It was probably a Bat thing, he was probably knee deep in some kind of fight.

"I basically passed out after," Jay continues, pacing and pacing and pacing, "Didn't really fully understand what I sent, I-I—"

That doesn't mean she will play nice when Danny was hurt by it all night, enough to throw himself through the apartment boxes and set everything up, enough to work through the night on that stupid new bike he'll have to build in the Realms, the way it's turning out.

"I texted to, to explain, but he hasn't replied and—"

"Just," Val cuts in, silencing the man and stopping him in his tracks, "shut up."

"I don't know if it was a Red Hood thing," Val starts, voice low and putting up a hand to stave off what no doubt is some kind of exclamation about her knowing, "But if you weren't of sound mind or, I don't fucking know, were in the middle of a shootout—"

"Ninja assassins," Jay breathes out, "I was, uh, getting chased by ninja assassins.."

She pauses, shakes her head.

"If you were in the middle of getting chased by ninja assassins," She growls out, finally facing her wide-eyed boss, "then why didn't you just wait until after to text him back?"

'I…" Jay's face goes that splotchy red again, "I don't…really like to make Danny wait if I can help it."

There's a long silence.

"You're so fucking stupid, are you fucking kidding me?" Val throws up her hands, groaning as she goes to detach the second tire. The angry clanging echoes through the garage.

The garage is actually empty, or she wouldn't have brought up Red Hood at all. The other mechanics went out on lunch, staggering their breaks. Melissa called sick, and there's only a couple cars anyway, light load for a summer day so Val's on her own for another hour.

"Yeah," Jay slumps, flinching when she tosses the old tire with an irritated yell, "Yeah I deserve that."

"He was up all night, unpacking and working on schematics." Val spits out, hefting two new tires up in each arm to attach to the car and finish her up. "His phone was dead, and Sam and Tucker were forcing him to bed when I left an hour ago."

"Okay," Jay breathes out, slow, relieved. "Alright."

"We just got Anita's Mazda, banged up and in need of some TLC." Val tosses a nut at his head. "Work on that, let Danny sleep for a while before you storm our apartment with whatever sappy shit you think will make up for it."

Jay rubs his head, where the nut had hit him, huffing. But he takes off his jacket, heads towards the locker room to no doubt grab some coveralls, mumbling.

"What was that?" Val starts letting the jack down, ready to test the air in the tires.

"I said," Jay pouts, "That we will be talking about the Hood thing later."

Val rolls her eyes. "You are not fucking subtle."

"Red Huntress says what?" Jay snarks, disappearing through the door.

And you know what? That's fair.

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 

All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 

It's the little things.

[quillcraftconquer]

John Price x Ex Wife Pt III

Part Two

(More to come)

John had been avoiding you.

4 long weeks had passed since you last saw John, the night he took your son with him. He had brought him back, of course, during those weeks. Or rather, his family did. When his mom and sister showed up to exchange him, you furrowed your brow. John never had someone else drop him off, it was always him. You tried to reach out to him on his cellphone - straight to voicemail. You called his family. Yes, he was home. Yes, he’s okay. It finally occurred to you that John just didn’t want to see you. 

That hurt. 

Really fucking bad. 

And you knew it was a bad idea, but you continued down John’s street, back to your old house, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

John was going to see you, whether he wanted to or not.

You didn't have a good excuse to show up, he had your son, had all the necessities, his sister even gave you a rundown on their weekend plans.

“Just a lazy weekend, spending some time cooped up inside. We said we’d come by, he said no. Said he wanted to spend some time alone with the baby.” 

A lazy weekend, some alone time, didn't explain why there was a stranger’s car in your husband’s, or ex-husbands, you had to remind yourself, drive. The leather of the steering wheel squeeked as you gripped it painfully tight, knuckles whitening atop it.

Who the fuck was in the house with your baby?

The car door slammed shut with a kick of your shoe, hands already fumbling for the old house key John never took back. Your hands shook slightly as it turned in the knob, battling with the decision to shoot first and ask questions later, or enter quietly and catch them in the act.

Hearing your baby's laughter from the kitchen answered the question for you. 

Like an animal stalking its prey, you rounded the corner to the kitchen, hand tightening around the cold metal of the key still in your palm. 

There your baby was, wrapped in someone else’s arms, perched on their hip as if he belonged. His tiny feet kicked in delight, another squeal escaping him when his eyes met yours. Slowly, the person turned from the sink, the empty bottle in their hand still filled with soapy water.

Except, nothing about the person was feminine. The arms wrapped around your baby were thick, hairy arms with tattoos. Your eyes slid upwards, meeting a pair of familiar brown eyes that were staring at you with confusion and surprise.

“Simon.” Your voice came out steelier than intended, and Simon’s eyes darted to his cellphone laying on the kitchen island before meeting yours again.

“Where the fuck is my husband?” You grit out, and Simon’s adams apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Range.” Simon answered, depositing the soapy bottle back into the sink and wiping his wet hand on his jeans. 

“The range?” You asked dryly, not believing him. Simon nodded his head. You stepped forward, sliding his phone towards him.

“Call him.” You ordered. Simon sighed, picking up the phone and tapping on the screen before laying it back on the counter, speaker on.

“You alright?” Johns voice answered immediately, concern lacing the question.

“We’re alright. You about done?” Simon asked, eyeing you.

“About 5 minutes out, got to run and get more ammo. You fancy a trip?” John asked good naturedly. 

“Your wife is here.” Simon said, and there was a long beat of silence before John answered.

“I’m on my way.”

Simon reached down and hung up the phone, warily watching you. Your shoulders slackened slightly, knowing he was telling the truth.

The possibility of John being on a date, being with someone else, shouldn't have bothered you. If anything, it should have made you happy. John moving on, being human, taking time for himself, should have been something you wanted, shouldn't it?

Simon slid past you into the living room, the movement drawing you out of your daze as he settled onto the couch, still holding your son.

“Let me take him.” You said, holding out your hands towards your baby, now ignoring you as he played with a toy.

“No.” Simon answered, his grip tightening around your baby as he drew him closer onto his lap.

“No?” You scoffed, rapidly blinking in disbelief. 

“You wont hurt me if I’m holding him.” Simon answered calmly, picking up the remote to turn on the TV as he relaxed into the couch. You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back the smile that threatened to escape. You loved Simon, he was almost like you and John's little brother, and he was right. 

The sound of tires on pavement broke the silence, John’s keys clinking into the dish next to the door before he strode into the living room, the scent of gunpowder and lead still clinging to his jacket. 

“What did you do?” John asked accusingly, and your head whipped to face him.

“I haven't done anything, John.” You answered, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“If you haven't done anything, why does Simon look like that?” John asked, pointing to his lieutenant who was now stretched across the couch, absentmindedly biting at a piece of skin on his thumb while your baby laid on his chest, yet his eyes flitted between you and John like a child watching his parents fight. You pinched the bridge of your nose, fighting the annoyance that crept upwards. When neither of you answered, John sighed, making his way to the back bedroom. You followed him, and John didn't argue, the door closing with a soft click behind you.

“Why are you here?” John asked, facing you. You opened your mouth to answer, until John reached behind his head, grasping at his t-shirt and peeling it over his head. Soft, coiled muscles littered with dark brown hair spanned his broad chest, meeting tight abdominal muscles that fell into his nicely tapered waist. You watched as his fingers snapped the button of his pants open, the fabric falling from his hips, along with his boxer briefs. Your mouth continued to open and close like a fish gasping for air, your eyes hooded as you watched him peel off his socks, depositing them into the laundry basket along with his other clothes.

“I…” You started to say, trailing off as John ignored you, stepping into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

Fuck, why were you here?

[lyjen]

Behind Closed Doors | Eddie Diaz

Summary: Two years ago, (Y/n) managed to escape her abusive, bad, drug business ex-boyfriend by snitching him. But now, after all she’s been through, he found her. He’s back and filled with rage. He decides to shoot his shot when (Y/n) is babysitting Chris as Eddie’s at work.

Request: @megafandomsxassemble

9-1-1 Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

(Y/n) smiled at the sight of Chris fastening towards the shelter where the jaguar lives in the Los Angeles zoo. Eddie’s fingers were intertwined with (Y/n)’s as they walked through the zoo, Eddie pressed his lips against the side of (Y/n)’s head. “It’s nice, seeing Chris happy” (Y/n) said as she glanced over at Eddie, who had his eyes locked on Chris.

“I haven’t seen him this happy in a while.” Eddie said without letting Chris out of his sight. “What about you? You’re happy to be back at work?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but ask.

Since Metro dispatch had been caught fire, Eddie finally got the chance to put on the turnout gear again, and he finally got back to the 118, he seemed happier. But it still would be nice to hear it from himself. “I’m not made for sitting behind a desk, making tweets and calling with journalists. The one eighteen is where I belong.” Eddie started as he now finally glanced back at her.

“I have a job that I love, a kid that I love, and an amazing girlfriend who I also love. So to answer your question: yes. I’m happy.” he continued as he ended his words with a smile he sent her.

They slowly walked closer to Chris, as the sound of a vibrating phone mixed with a ringtone started to fill her eardrums. She let her free hand open her bag, and fish out her phone while Eddie waited for her to decide if she wanted to answer or not.

“It’s Buck” she said as she looked over at Eddie, “Do you mind if I-?” she added as she motioned her head towards the phone. He shook his head, “No, sure.. go ahead. I’ll go and keep Chris some company.” Eddie said as the grip of his hand got looser, and their hands disconnected.

Not even a few seconds later Eddie was going towards Chris, and (Y/n)’s thumb clicked the green button to accept the call. She held her phone against her ear as she greeted her brother.

“Hey sis, I feel like this is a bad time to call, is it?” Buck sounded through the phone, she laughed at his sudden reaction. “No it isn’t, but it’s nice you’re still trying to use your twin abilities. Even though it never worked.” she answered her twin brother through the phone.

The Buckley family didn’t really count on two babies after they tried to save Daniel. But when the doctor checked, they found baby A and B. Another chance to save Daniel, that’s what they thought. But even though Buck was a match to his older brother, the bone marrow cells failed to graft causing a relapse of symptoms one year after the two were born.

“I was just calling to check on you, what are you up to today?” He asked, it was sweet of him to keep on checking on his sister every now and then. Even though they saw each other almost everyday. “Um, Eddie and I took Chris to the zoo. Ever since they’ve renovated it and fixed everything after the black out, he has been begging us to go.” she explained as she slowly scanned the environment she was in and paced back and forth.

“Can’t say no to the boy, can you?” Buck chuckled through the phone, making her laugh again. He knew his twin too well. “Yeah, it’s the puppy eyes he makes that wins me over. I don’t know about Eddie, I think he can handle it better than me.” she explained, as she looked at her feet and back into the scene she was in.

“You okay though? I mean it has been a while since you’ve been with someone since..” Buck stopped finishing his sentence. “You know who..” he added, he wasn’t going to say the name of her ex-boyfriend, it was like his name was cursed. It made her stop pacing around, and close her eyes for a second.

Blake.

That was the name he didn’t want to say or use.

Blake seemed like a good guy, and he was… at least until he had (Y/n) wrapped around his finger. No one knew what happened behind closed doors until (Y/n) managed to get out, and told the truth.

*

Arlington, Texas, US

“I’m sorry we barged into your house like that.” A male voice filled the interrogation room she was in, as he placed a cup of water in front of her. (Y/n) just looked at the man who was standing across from her, while she was sitting in a chair made of metal. Her hair was messy, she was wearing her oversized flannel, she basically looked like shit.

When the silence in the room became louder than the two persons, the man decided to break it, continuing his story. “We’re trying to locate your boyfriend, Blake Dyer.” he continued his last sentence.

Only hearing his name sent a shiver down her spine and her blood ran cold. Of course they were looking for him. Her mind screamed: red flags, red flags when she ever laid eyes on him. But something about him made her heart beat faster. Can you even call that a boyfriend? A guy that abuses you and hits you for every small thing you do wrong?

She swallowed as she looked down to her hands, pushing the fabric of the flannel sleeve over her fingers, hiding her skin, her anxiousness, her being scared for what was going to happen if he would’ve found out if she started talking to cops. What if Blake found out she was here instead of at home? He’d hurt her, not only with words.

She wanted to leave, but part of her desperately wanted to call out for help.

“(Y/n), do you have any idea where we can find him? Did he say anything? Talk to someone? Every little detail could help us.” The man leaned his back against the wall, as he tried to get something out of her.

“I don’t know” she whispered, barely audible. Her eyes were locked on her hands as she fidgeted the flannel fabric between her hands and fingers, everything to avoid eye contact with the man that was across from her. Making the man sigh, she wasn’t saying much, but at least he got something out of her.

“He’s hurting you, isn’t he?” he asked her, and that was the moment she locked eyes with the man immediately. She shook her head as if her life depended on it. Slowly, he stepped closer, “The bruises on your arms and the wound on the side of your head are telling me a different story.” he said, looking into her eyes. The fast reaction to his question, and the fear in her eyes spoke volumes.

She wanted to nod, so badly to the question he asked before, tell him everything she knew about him. But, what if they couldn’t find him and he found her instead?

“We can help you, (Y/n). Get you out of the city, state, anywhere, somewhere safe.” he said, as he couldn’t step any further forward because of the table. She didn’t know where to look, but when he told her that, she was intrigued.

This was it, this was her ticket out of the shit hole she had been in for months, unable to escape. Blake had been telling her she couldn’t leave, despite that, she had tried. Multiple times, but somehow every attempt, he found her. At some point he even broke her arm, and completely knocked her out.

“But we can only do that, if you help us.” he added as he moved past the table and crouched down to be on the same height as her. He could see she was thinking, weighing the pro’s and con’s, the thousand scenarios in her head.

“I can give you some time to think about it.” he offered, but when he said that she shook her head like she was trying to give herself a concussion. “No-” she said a bit too loud, as she cleared her throat. “I’ll help, but you have to promise me that he can never find me.” she answered.

The man pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to tell her without any words that she was doing the right thing. “You help us, and we’ll help you. I promise.” the man held out a hand. For a second she hesitated, but she pushed her arm through the sleeve from the flannel, and gave the man a hand.

He gave her a small nod, “So what can you tell us about Blake Dyer?”

She told them everything.

*

It wasn’t until a loud sigh left her mouth, when she remembered that name. “I’m.. okay” she told Buck through the phone. She had been going to therapy a lot since she fled from Texas and came to California. The police had helped her get out of Arlington, and out of Texas. This whole entire story about Blake ended about two years ago.

And that’s how she ended up in Los Angeles, luckily she didn’t end up living on the couch at her brother’s place. But a small home she rents with help from the Texas police.

“Are you sure?” Buck’s voice sounded concerned as he heard her voice through the phone. She was happy her brother was checking on her and her feelings, something they both had missed when she was with her ex in Texas.

“Yes.. Buck, it’s not like you have to check up on me every time you drop that name. He’s in the past, I’m not in Texas anymore.” She told him she was okay and she didn’t lie, but that weird tingly feeling inside of her stomach every now and then when someone dropped that name, wouldn’t go away.

“Okay, okay.. excuse me for being actually concerned about my sister.” Buck reacted at her words. “But tell me, things between you and Eddie..?” he continued, he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t over step her own boundaries, not that he didn’t trust Eddie, but she was wounded, hurt. And she took the time to heal, but it was scary for her to just step back into something new, when she didn’t really know what true love was. How do you know if you can truly trust someone? How do you know if he’s the one, when someone before him completely broke you mentally and physically?

“We are fine, we talked together, and both agreed we are going to take things my speed.” she said softly, as she nodded to herself that she was doing good. “Baby steps” she added to the sentence. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Chris and Eddie being together, looking at the information sign of the animal.

“Oh he better, because I swear if he pushes you, making you go over boundaries, I’ll beat his ass, maybe even kill him.” She laughed at her brother’s words, he was determined to keep his sister safe now. He missed the signs back then, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her now that they had found each other again. Her eyes were now focussed on her feet as she turned on her heels, continuing pacing through the small part of the zoo she was.

Her eyes wandered from her feet, up to the connected paths of the zoo. But instantly, her stomach turned at the sight of one of the ten maybe hundreds of people walking through the zoo. It was like when you suddenly hear your name being called by a teacher to speak in front of the class, when you’re incredibly shy.

Know that feeling? That’s exactly the one she had at this point.

Maybe she was starting to hallucinate after he was brought up again, and this was all playing in her head. A guy, who looked just like Blake, walked by. Maybe it was Blake? No, it couldn’t be. Maybe some kind of döppleganger? Blake couldn’t be here, he was in prison for at least seven years with all the evidence they found back then.

Only two years had passed. This wasn’t possible. This had to be a look alike.

The questions were instantly running through her mind as her brother kept on talking to her on the phone.

The shock of seeing some döppleganger, made her instantly look in another direction. But when all of those questions were running through her mind, and she tried to answer part of them, being sure that it wasn’t him, she looked back to double check.

But he wasn’t there. He was gone. Was she imagining things?

Panic was starting to creep into her chest and mind, as she looked around to see if she could find the guy again.

“You should see Chris-” Buck was telling his sister about how Chris is starting to become a real architect because of one of the projects he needed to make for school. But (Y/n) wasn’t listening anymore. “Hey Buck, I’ll call you back okay?” she said, and lowered the phone in her hand. “What? oh yeah, sure-” His voice was audible as the phone made its way down. Before Buck could end his sentence, he got hung up.

She shoved her phone back into her purse not even a second after she ended the call as she fastened her steps towards Eddie who was still with Chris.

“Eddie?” The sound of (Y/n)’s voice sounded through his eardrums. Eddie could tell only by hearing her voice that something was up, her breathing was fastened. He glanced at her as he looked to his side, she seemed upset.

Eddie turned himself towards her, fully facing her now as he had his right hand on the shoulder of his son.

“Hey, is something wrong? Who called-” A worried look was spread over Eddie’s face as he looked at the girl, trying to keep her cool, but it almost looked like she could have a panic attack any moment now. “Can I borrow you for a second?” she asked, as loud as a whisper.

She didn’t want to start spilling her guts when Chris was next to them, trying to enjoy the zoo animals in the area. Eddie nodded, “Sure.. just one second.” he said as he held up his index finger. He turned to Chris who was still fascinated by the animal on the other side. “Hey bud, we’ll be right there if you need us. Stay here for me, okay?” he said as he leaned his head next to Chris’.

“Okay” Chris simply said as his eyes were focussed on the animal, practically drowning in the sight or maybe drowning in fascination. Eddie gave his son a small pat on his shoulder as they took a few steps back, not too far away from Chris, but far enough so he wouldn’t hear the conversation.

She stopped as she placed her face in the palm of her hands and sighed. Eddie stopped in front of her, as he waited for her to start the conversation she wanted to have so badly. After a few counts she disconnected her hands from her face. “Maybe I’m hallucinating, or maybe I am not and.. ” she gasped as she avoided eye contact with him.

“And you’re probably going to say I sound insane.” she rattled as her mouth was moving faster than her mind. “I’ll decide for myself if you sound insane. Now, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, as he grabbed one of her hands and rubbed his thumb on the inside of her hand, trying to calm her down.

“I was on the phone with Buck, he was checking in on me like almost every other day. But then, his name popped up again. And I… thought I saw him.” she didn’t rattle this time, it was still a little bit faster than a usual sentence, but the touch of Eddie helped her calm her nerves a bit.

His eyebrows furrowed at her words, “Who?” She kept referring to “him”, Eddie knew all about her story from the beginning to the end and all the details in between. “Blake” she whispered, as she suddenly looked around like somebody was going to shoot her at any second now. “What? I thought he was in jail? And in another state, right?” He said.

“But I swear I saw him standing right there.” (t/n) said and pointed at the exact same location she saw him earlier. Eddie’s eyes follow her finger as he scans the entire scene they were in, it was like he was hunting for monsters in Chris’ room when he was younger. “(Y/n)..” her name fell off his lips, as he looked back at her, his thumb still tracing over the palm of her hand.

“You think I'm insane don’t you?” She concluded before he could say anything else, as she pulled her hand from his touch.

“No, no, no that isn’t what I’m saying.” Eddie Saïd as soon as she turned her back to him and placed her hand on her forehead. “I just-..” Eddie continued, stumbling. How was he going to say this? He needed her to get out of her own head.

She turned back around, facing her boyfriend again. “Listen, he’s behind bars for at least seven years, that’s what the officer told you back then. Only two years have passed now, and besides that, he’s not going to be able to find you. They covered your tracks back there and they knew what they were doing.” He told her as she was still a bit overwhelmed and stressed.

She wasn't focussed on anything he told her, at least that's what it looked like. But she was listening. Eddie’s hands reached out for her shoulders, as he placed both his hands on it.

“You’re still processing your trauma, and you will be maybe for your entire life. Hallucinations are part of that too. Believe me, I still have them too from the army and it sucks.” Her eyes were locked onto his as his words entered her ears. One of the hands that was on her shoulders, moved from her shoulder to her own hand.

He gently grabbed her hand, “But I’m here with you. I’m real.” He said, and placed her hand onto his own chest, as one last attempt to calm her down.

It's quiet for a moment as (Y/n) didn’t know what to do. “Eddie.. I-” she stumbled as Eddie stopped her mid sentence. “Just focus on my heartbeat okay?” He said as she nodded.

It looked weird for every single person passing by, but yet it did something calming to her. Her breathing became slowly normal, and the panic that was rushing through her veins left her body. “Good?” Eddie softly asked as he noticed her body became less and less tense.

She let out one last loud sigh, with her eyes closed as the sound of Eddie’s voice entered her ears, “You’re safe.”

______

(Y/n) pressed the freshly washed shirt to her chest as she folded it and placed the t-shirt in the laundry basket. The tv was playing in the background as she continued folding the other pieces of just washed and dried laundry, that was on one big pile lying next to her on the couch.

She glanced at the clock in the living room. It was getting late, Eddie was on shift since early in the morning, and wasn’t coming home until the next morning: he was on a twenty four hour shift.

While Eddie was on shift, (Y/n) agreed to stay over at Eddie’s place to look after Chris. (Y/n) didn’t mind, it gave her the time and place to get to know his son when he wasn’t around. Sometimes Chris and (Y/n) would play video games together, and other times they would have a movie night.

But that wasn’t the case right now, Chris was upstairs doing his homework as (Y/n) was doing some chores. It made her feel useful, she didn’t just want to sit her ass down and scroll through her phone or watch trash television.

(Y/n) fished a navy blue t-shirt from the pile, as she tried to undo the shirt from the ball form. But the second she wanted to fold the t-shirt, a loud sound sounded from what she guessed was the kitchen. She was startled by the sudden sound and she was standing upright, old habits.

She had spent years being wary of every little sound from outside. That’s why she had cameras installed outside her home, and a 360 camera inside her home. Just to give her a feeling of security.

She scanned the entire scene she was in, and her eyebrows furrowed as another sound was coming from the exact same location. It couldn’t be Chris, right? If he came down stairs she should’ve noticed it. Cautiously she made her way towards the staircase, with every step she took, she scanned the environment, so she could see any changes if there were any.

When she reached the start of the stairs, she cleared her throat, “Chris you’re doing okay?” she asked not too loudly, she needed to know if he was upstairs or not. Her soft voice sounded through the house.

“I just started with math homework” Chris answered her question. She felt the anxiety rising on the inside of her body, Chris wasn’t the one she was hearing. It was something else. It made her stumble over her words as she tried to stay calm towards Chris. “Oh okay, If you need any help, just ask.” She told him as she felt her hands starting to sweat. “I will, thank you.”

She let out a deep breath as she made her way towards the kitchen, trying to find the source of the sound. (Y/n) stopped at one of the walls that were connected to the kitchen, placing her shoulder against the wall as she peeked along the wall, into the kitchen.

All of the curtains were closed in the kitchen, and the doors and windows were closed and locked. But her eye fell on the shadow that was visible on the backdoor of Eddie’s house. The curtain was right in front of it, but it looked like someone was trying to break into the house. Someone was trying to pick the lock.

(Y/n) fished her phone from her pocket, as she started searching for the app to see the live feed of the camera in the backyard Eddie had installed. He might not have been a fan of camera’s, and smart equipment, but it was important for him that his girlfriend felt safe in his house. And if that meant that Eddie had to install one or two camera’s around the house, he’d push his own feelings aside and did that for her.

She selected the app and waited for it to get the feed. The sound of someone trying to pick the lock was still continuing as she opened the live feed of the camera. At first, she couldn’t see anything since the person was wearing a black hood. But then the person turned around and for one quick second.

(Y/n) paused the infra red camera and quickly started to investigate the person that was in the backyard. She zoomed in, but her heart dropped as soon as she saw the tattoo’s on the guy’s hand. The hand was covered in some weird wave tattoo, and the other hand were a compilation of multiple smaller tattoos.

Blake. He had found her, and was here to get his revenge.

Her hand immediately was placed on her mouth as she tried so hard not to make any sound. She had to get to Chris, and get him to hide. She had to call for help. She didn’t even think, and sprinted towards the staircase she was just a minute ago. She had to multitask at this point.

Just as she stepped onto the first step of the stairs, she tapped Eddie’s contact and placed the phone against her ear. She rushed up the stairs as she impatiently waited for Eddie to pick up his phone. But she gets send to voicemail. “Hey this is Eddie-” a grunt left her mouth as she clicked the red button to stop the call. “Fuck” she muttered under her breath.

He must be on a call, that’s why he wasn’t answering her.

She looked to her left as she saw Chris, his bedroom light shining into the hallway. Soundless as possible she tried to make her way to his room. She stepped into his room and closed the door behind her. Making Chris look confused at her as he dropped his pencil. “Chris, I need you to do something for me.” she said as softly as she could.

“What is it?” he asked her as he watched her move through his room looking for a good place to hide. “I need you to hide with me.” she said, as she opened the folding doors in his room, opening his closet where his clothes hung.

“What?” Chris asked then, looking like she had gone insane. “Listen, I don’t have much time to explain. But someone is breaking into the house.” (Y/n) explained as she came closer to him and lowered herself to his height. “I know it sounds scary, but I’ll be with you the entire time.” she continued.

Chris nodded, “Okay” he said as he stood up from the chair and (Y/n) assisted him to get into the closet. Chris sat down in the corner of the closet as (Y/n) quickly, but soundless tried to turn off the lights. Like a jumpscare, her heart dropped when she heard the door downstairs click open.

When she managed to turn off the lights, she unlocked her phone that was still in her hand, and she tapped on Buck’s contact. Pressing the phone against her ear as she took place next to Chris, and closed the folding doors.

“Come on.. Pick up.” she mumbled as she grabbed a dark blanket out of one of the bags that were on the ground next to (Y/n) and placed it one handedly over Chris.

Eddie grabbed his phone from his pocket, as he let his turnout coat slide off his shoulders. and placed it back on the rack where he just had placed his helmet in too. “That fire was a beast” Eddie said as Buck finally made his way to the rack too and placed his helmet on it. “Another reminder why you should not infact store fireworks in your garage.” Buck laughed as a ringtone filled their ears.

Making Eddie check his phone, to see if anyone was trying to contact him. “Oh- (Y/n) tried to call me a few minutes ago.” he said as he waited for Buck to get his phone.

Buck immediately fished his phone out of his pocket as he felt the vibration in his right pocket where his phone was. He held his phone in his hand as he looked at the name who was trying to reach him. “Speaking of the devil” Buck laughed as he accepted the call and placed his phone to his ear.

“Buck. He found me. He’s here.” she blurted out in a whisper as softly as possible, hoping that the tv downstairs would compensate for the soft voice that came from the closet.

“Wow, wow, wow, slow down. What’s happening?” Buck asked as he tried to focus on his sister’s soft voice through the phone. The sobs through the words weren’t helping either. But the sound of her voice, and the cries, gave him a bad feeling the second he placed his phone to his ear.

“Blake is in the house. I’ve got Chris. Please. Get here now. I don't-” she sobbed as she placed her own hand in front of her mouth, trying to suppress the sound of her sobs.

The name he hoped to never hear ever again, fell off her lips, and that’s when he realized. He had found her. The back of Buck’s hand immediately flew against Eddie’s chest as he just looked confused. “Blake is in the house?” Buck repeated his name as he wanted some kind of confirmation. But he could only hear her muffled, quiet sobs and cries.

Buck’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour as he thought of all the kinds of scenarios that were going down right now. “Okay, (Y/n) I need you to hide and stay on the line until we get there okay?” He said, looking at Eddie as he nodded.

Eddie had a fire burning in his eyes as soon as he heard the name Blake and his location. She had been right about one week ago when they were in the Los Angeles zoo and she almost had a panic attack. Her abusive ex-boyfriend was back, and from what Eddie knew, about her telling the truth to the cops. He was sure Blake was back to get revenge.

His hands balled into fists as he squeezed them so tight together, his nails actually almost punctured through the skin on the inside of his hands as he made a sprint down the lower level of the station. He immediately aimed for Bobby, “Bobby I need to borrow the BC.” he said while thunder was projected onto his face.

Bobby was just looking at his phone, checking for any messages as Eddie stood right in front of him and dropped those words. And Eddie wasn’t asking. “Eddie what’s going on?” Bobby asked him as a frown appeared on his face. What ever just happened in those one or two minutes of time that he didn’t see the much younger firefighter, he went from neutral, to all worked up.

“Family emergency” he just answered, not getting into the details too much. Because even Eddie didn’t know what he was going to do if he’d get the chance to get his hands on Blake. But there was this fire burning on the inside of him, why was Blake back? Why couldn’t he just move on? Hell, why was he even out in the first place?

When Buck came rushing towards the two, Bobby could see the panic in his eyes. The kind he had never seen before. Sure he had seen Buck scared before, but this was different. Bobby switched looks between Buck and Eddie, “fine take the BC” he said, and not even a second after he finished his answer, they were already running towards the car.

“(Y/n) Hold on okay! We’re on our way!” Buck’s voice sounded through the phone as she pressed the phone closer to her ear, she pressed her lips tighter on each other as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she felt her heart trying to jump free from her chest.

She had to calm herself down, she didn’t want him to give away their hiding spot. And she certainly didn’t want to be the reason he found them, if something were to happen to Chris, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to forgive herself. A warm hand was connected to hers as she closed her eyes for a second and looked down to her lap, trying to focus on her breathing.

(Y/n) glanced to her side, it was too dark to see, but she was sure Chris his hand was placed on hers, he was trying to help her. She couldn’t help but smile weakly through her tears, her phone was still connected to her ear and she heard Eddie was calling 9-1-1 while Buck was still on the phone with her. He knew she couldn’t talk back, but every now and then he told her their location, or to hold on, anything to soothe her.

She muted the audio from Buck and Eddie and placed the phone onto the floor in between Chris and herself. (Y/n) let her hand slide through Chris’ hair and pressed a kiss onto the top of his head, trying to soothe him and herself. She didn’t dare to say anything.

It was too quiet on the first floor they were on. But the second she thought that, she could hear the door of Eddie’s room next door open harshly, making the doorknob bouncing into the door. Followed by something made of glass falling down to the ground. She guessed that were the photo’s Eddie had in his room.

Every frame that fell into pieces made her flinch at the sound. The photo’s probably made him even more angrier. He had been in prison for the last two years, while she was just continuïng with her life, trying to rebuild it. While he had been suffering.

“(Y/n)!” Blake’s voice called out, “I know you’re here!” he added, he sounded aggressive as his words were being followed by another shatter of glass and a loud bang. The way her name left his mouth made a shiver roll down her spine, and made her even more terrified. She hadn’t heard his voice for months, years, but him screaming, made it even more real.

Secretly, she hoped this all was a terrible nightmare and she’d wake up any second by now. But no matter how hard she tried, the dream, or nightmare wouldn’t end. “You really think you can hide from me?” he laughed as (Y/n) heard the door open even more closer to them. He had opened Chris’ door. He was in his room.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he continued calling out as (y/n) could hear the heavy footsteps walking over the creaking wood. Her hand was pressed over her mouth as she soundless helped chris underneath the blanket. Tears were blurring her vision, as she heard the footsteps coming closer and closer.

Just when the footsteps seemed to leave the side of the closet they were in, she inaudibly let out her breath she was holding. She looked at the small ball Chris was, almost morphing into the wall. He was doing so good, he was such a brave kid.

But she felt her heart drop as soon as she felt a grip around her ankle, and before she knew what was going on, she got dragged from the closet. A high pitched yelp left her mouth as she got dragged through Chris' room. “Missed me? Bitch.” he groaned as he kept on pulling her leg. (Y/n) tried to kick her free foot against his body to let her ankle go.

They left the room and the second she saw where he was heading, she grabbed the first wooden baluster from the staircase to stop him from pulling her down the stairs. She held on like this was her lifeline, as she felt her body almost split into two as Blake kept on pulling on her leg.

She screamed as she used all of her strength to keep a hold on the wooden baluster. But then, Blake dropped her body by letting go of her ankle.

The second he did this, she tried to get up. With emphasis on tried, because the moment she got onto her knees, a fist full of hair was being grabbed. The tears welled up spontaneously in her eyes as she felt the pain on her head. “Look at you now with your oh so perfect little life.” He said, as he slowly came closer to her face.

He glanced at the photos that were hanging on the walls of the small hallway. “I see you got yourself a new boyfriend, but I got some news for you.” he laughed as he yanked her hair down even more down, so had to look at the pictures on the wall and was facing Blake at the same time.

(Y/n)’s eyes watched Blake’s hand reach down to his pocket. Further than that, she couldn’t see since he was forcing her to look at his face. But a fast high pitched sound filled her ears. The sound of something metal.

“You’re leaving him.” he continued his sentence as he admired the object in his hand for a moment, keeping it out of her line of sight just a little bit longer. Tears were streaming down her face, mixed emotions, the feeling of her hair being pulled from her skull, the fact that she was facing her ex that she had betrayed by snitching him to the cops.

She was gasping for a breath as she tried to keep her emotions under control. She could smell his awful breath, as his face came close enough. He hushed her cries, “Ssh, it’s okay. I don’t want to end this right away. I just want to enjoy this moment a little bit more.” he said with a smile and a laugh. Blake placed the sharp metal he just fished from his pocket underneath her eye.

It was a knife.

Blake used the blade of the knife to wipe away one of her tears that were tracing down her cheeks. Making her heartbeat in her chest even more. “You took everything from me.” he started as he investigated the tear on his blade, mixed with some small hairs from her skin you’d be barely able to see with the naked eye.

“And now.. It’s time you pay it back.” he added as he scanned her entire body once more. “Only better..” Blake ended his words with a whisper and folded the knife again and placed into his pocket. He wanted to let her suffer even more than she already had now and he wasn’t just going to kill her off right here and now. Not when the party was just getting started.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she looked at Blake full with anger. She didn’t answer his words. But she couldn’t help but spit into his face, she had to get out of his grip. The hairs were starting to hurt even more and more. The spit splashed onto his face, and without saying anything, he forced her onto her legs, and yanked her head into one of the photo frames that were hanging on the wall.

His hands were still tangled into her hair as he banged her another time into a second photoframe. Blood was now dripping from her nose as the second time her nose touched the glass first instead of her forehead. “You thought you could run from me hm? You dirty snitch.” he groaned, as he grabbed her chin and cheeks with his free hand. Squeezing it like she was a little baby.

The blood from her nose was making its way down to her lips. She could taste the iron as she felt her entire world spinning in front of her eyes. He roughly pulled her on her hair once more and gave her a hard push, making her lose her balance.

(Y/n) tried to get a grip of the balustrade of the staircase, to stop herself from falling down. But she couldn’t. It felt like she was free falling for a second, but then, her back connected with the wooden stairs harshly. The moment she felt herself falling down the stairs, all she could think of, was protecting her face.

She held her lower arms in front of her face, trying to keep it from getting hurt even more. Her body harshly fell down every single step of the staircase. She could practically feel the bruises start to form themselves onto her body as gravity finally let go of her body.

Face down to the ground, belly touching the ground, she opened her eyes. It felt like she just got out of a merry-go-around from the playground when she was younger. Her entire world was spinning, and it almost made her vomit. She groaned as she slowly tried to pushed herself into the table pose like yoga.

Her ears were ringing but she could hear slowly, harsh, loud footsteps that were approaching her. Just when she thought she had the energy to stand into the table pose, a heavy foot was placed onto her back, pushing her right back where she was. Almost like she was in the army and the trainer wasn’t having it. Except, this wasn’t the army, this was Blake. The ex boyfriend who wanted her dead.

She gasped as her body fell flat onto the floor again. She just felt him making a small circle around her. But then, the side of her body was hit by a sharp, deep, pain. He kicked his foot into her side like she was a football. Making (Y/n) start coughing, and rolling automatically onto her side. (Y/n) let out an ear deafening scream as she tried to soothe the pain by pressing her hand onto the spot.

Nothing else left her mouth but groans of pain. Blake just let her suffer for a few more seconds as he kicked her once more, this time hitting her entire lower torso. “I hope snitching on me was worth it.” he said as he pushed her weakly, in pain body, so she was now on her back.

It felt like her head could pop off her body within a snap of a finger. Her eyelids were heavy, as she looked through a small gap to keep her eyes open. He stepped over her body, standing over her with one foot on each side of her body.

Blake crouched down above her as he grabbed a fist full of her shirt, pulling her partly up from the ground. When her eyes were met by his face again, she felt a raging fire inside of her, an instinct of survival.

She started to push and kick her way out of the position, she was so close to giving up. But felt like she didn’t do enough. She wanted to badly to poke her fingers into his eyes, but before she even touched his face, he roughly grabbed both her arms and pinned them down to the wooden floor.

She was too weak for this, why was it that she was so afraid to fight back? Everytime she heard his voice, it made her froze into her position wherever she was. She couldn’t say anything, couldn’t move. She just froze.

Blake let go of one of her arms as he moved from her arm to her neck, and squeezed her airway shut with every single piece of energy he had left in his hand. “You put me in jail..” he mumbled as his fist turned red around her neck.

The second hand left her other arm, and assisted in blocking her airway. “I’ll put you in your coffin.” he added. (Y/n)’s hands were trying to get between the skin of her neck and his hands. But he was way too strong.

Dots were dancing around her eyes as she gasped for a single breath. She was kicking her feet in agony and her face was slowly turning red, and going from red towards blue. She could feel herself fading away.

But then, the grip around her throat loosened as she saw through the little space of her eye lids, Buck and Eddie pushing him stomach first down to the ground. She didn’t have a clue what was happening as her senses almost shut down.

She couldn’t hear anything clearly as she was gasping for a breath, and this time it did enter her lungs. (Y/n) coughed at the dry air entering her airway as she rolled onto her side tightening her arms around her stomach. Everything in her body hurted.

(Y/n) was in so much pain, she didn’t even see Athena enter the room as she arrested Blake. The only thing she could hear vaguely was her name falling off Eddie’s lips. She saw his black work shoes and the blue trousers coming closer to her as she just kept on crying out in pain.

Eddie felt her screams and cries go through his marrow and bones. It made shiver roll down his spine as he turned on his heels and looked at his girl, all curled up on the ground.

He didn’t know where to look. Her head was full with little scratches and blood, and her nose looked like it was broken. Those were the visible details he could see as he stood there, frozen.

Everything was happening in slow motion, her cries, Athena escorting Blake out as he noticed Buck running up the stairs.

Something happened inside of Eddie’s brain, making him get out of his own brain he was locked in for a minute, and he placed his knees on the ground, next to (Y/n). “(Y/n)?” Eddie’s words came out of his mouth like he was on the edge of crying. He never wanted this to happen to her. To anyone.

It was a horrible sight to witness. He pressed his lips into a thin line to suppress the emotions he felt as he looked at her.

(Y/n) didn’t want to let go of her stomach, it did give her some kind of pain relief. But the second Eddie kneeled next to her, not knowing what to do with his hand, he grabbed one of her hands as the other one remained on her stomach.

“I-I couldn’t..” she stumbled through her sobs.

Eddie was afraid to even touch her, hell, he was even afraid to move her at this point. It was like the medic inside of Eddie had left his body, he didn’t know what to do.

Maybe this is what Bobby usually meant on scene by: you can’t work on your family. He never felt this before, not even with Shannon when she basically died in his arms.

A small sob left his lips as he placed one hand on (Y/n)’s forehead, “It’s okay..” he whispered, he didn’t mean it to come out like a whisper. But he couldn’t control it. “You did.. so good.” he added, he had to push out the words.

A feeling of guilt spread itself through Eddie’s body as he took in the picture right in front of him, once more. What if he stayed home? Maybe this wouldn’t have happened, or maybe it still did, but then he’d be there to protect the both of them, the people he loved.

He pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, trying to soothe her. “I-I..” she continued to stumble, but when Eddie let his eyes wander from their hands to her face, he could see (Y/n) was fading away.

Her eyes were trying to shut down, like she was falling asleep in front of the tv. “No, no, no. Hey, (Y/n) I know you’re tired.. but you have to stay awake.” he said as he gently tapped her on her cheek to keep her awake. Her eyes just slowly opened again.

He could tell she was having trouble with keeping herself conscious. Quick enough, her eyes were trying to close again, she nodded “I know” she mumbled under her breath. “I’m just..-” she continued mumbling, “tired? I know mi amor.. I know.” Eddie finished her words, the voice of him sounded in the back of her head. But Eddie could feel his heart skip a beat when he saw her head tilt to the side.

“(Y/n)?” Eddie’s voice was filled with terror and fear as he watched his girlfriend’s head tilt to the side, losing consciousness. Her name fell off his lips multiple times as he tried gently to wake her up again. His hands moved to her face, tapping against her skin. But there was no movement.

“Don’t do this to me!” words fell off his lips, more like a yell. He pressed his fingers against her neck to feel her pulse. It was racing like she had run a marathon and dropped to the ground. But that wasn’t the case.

Placed his face next to her mouth, he felt oxygen entering and leaving her mouth. She was still breathing.. for now. The medic inside of Eddie had to come back to think clearly. He needed to help her now that the paramedics weren’t here yet.

He could still hear her voice in his head, complaining about her abdomen. And with that thought in his head, he grabbed the lower part of her t-shirt and lifted it. Eddie’s eyes were locked onto the swollen abdomen mixed with a bloody red spot.

She was bleeding internally.

The shock was written all over his face as he felt a piece on the inside of him break down. “No, no, no..” he mumbled as he pulled the shirt even higher, to examine her even further. Her chest wasn’t as bad as her lower part. But when Eddie pushed her gently to her side, to catch a glimpse of her back, he stopped breathing for a second.

Her back was filled with bruises. “Where is that ambulance for fuck sake!” Eddie’s voice sounded through the hallway as he didn’t even dare to get his eyes off (Y/n).

“Come on (Y/n), don’t do this to me..” he mumbled as he looked at the unconscious face of his girl. “We didn’t have enough time.”

______

Eddie felt uncomfortable walking down the stark hospital hallway. He could hear his own shoes clapping faintly against the white perfect polished floor. He hated hospitals with his entire heart, they were full of memories he’d rather forget. (Y/n) was in the same hospital where Shannon passed away a few years back.

He opened the door to her room, as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Eddie paused for a second, taking in the environment around him, scanning the room. His eyes fell on (Y/n), motionless on the hospital bed. The only thing that was sounding through the room were the machines beeping softly, monitoring her vitals.

She was still alive, even though she barely made it to the hospital in time.

Eddie cleared his throat and took in a deep breath as he stepped closer. She had fought so hard, for herself but even more to keep Chris safe.

Eventually he sat down in the chair by her bed, his fingers gripping the armrests like they were the only things holding him together. He had so many things to say, but yet, no words were leaving his mouth.

He sighed loudly, “Mi amor, it’s me.” he said softly. He wanted to be strong, but the second he started talking his entire voice broke down. “I’m so sorry.” he added, as he placed one hand on his mouth, trying to keep himself from sobbing even more.

“I'm sorry I couldn’t protect you.” he continued his words. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “You have to wake up.” he sobbed as tears were starting to run down his face. “You can't leave, not now. Not like this.”

His mind replayed everything, from the moment he barged into the house together with Buck, tackling Blake. To the moment where he held her hand in the ambulance, almost losing her.

She coded in the ambulance. Her heart stopped, and Eddie couldn’t do anything. He just sat there, crying, on the small bench of the ambulance, looking at someone else to try and get her rhythm back.

The compressions went on and on, it felt like hours. They were still doing compressions on her when they rolled her into the ER, leaving Eddie with so many unanswered questions.

But they got her rhythm back, eventually. The doctors told him that she had an emergency surgery, that she was in critical condition. Leaving a hole inside of him.

Even though every single person in the room told him to go home, get a shower, get something to eat, he refused. He needed to be here when she woke up.

It has been days after the accident, her vitals were good, so the doctors decided to take her off the ventilator. He hasn’t been home in days, while Chris was staying with his abuela switching every now and then with Buck.

Even the nurses couldn’t get Eddie out of the room. The only reason he’d leave the room is to go to the toilet or get some food in the awful hospital cafeteria.

Eddie reached out for her hand, carefully he grabbed her hand, avoiding the IV line that was taped to her wrist. “There’s so much I haven’t said.” He started, “so many things I want to do with you.” He stayed focussed on their hands, desperate to feel some kind of reaction. Even if it was just a small squeeze.

His voice cracked as he shut his eyes tightly. Trying to get rid of the tears. “Chris needs you. Buck needs you. I need you.” his voice choked with emotion as he pressed her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto her skin.

“Chris has been asking about you..” “You promised him last week to take him to the cinema, remember? To see that new Marvel movie. You’re not going to break that promise, are you?”

“Because I think Chris would get upset when I go with him, I still don’t understand what happened to Captain America.” he let out a shaky breath as a small laugh left his mouth. The marvel movies was their thing, Chris and (Y/n).

Eddie let go of her hand as he leaned back, running a hand over his face again. The room was too quiet, the beeping of the monitors too loud in his ears.

He let out a shaky breath and stood up, starting to pace through the small room. He wasn’t used to this, standing by, powerless.

The soft creak of the door made Eddie come out of his own mind. He glanced over his shoulder, and that’s when he saw Christopher standing there with Buck on his side. Buck’s hand was placed on Chris’ shoulder as they stood in the doorframe.

"Chris?" Eddie said his name filled with confusion. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be with Buck, at home, gaming or doing his homework. "What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at home." He asked as he switched looks between Buck and Chris.

Chris entered the room with Buck slowly following behind him. “I had to come. I need to see her.” He said, determined as he passed his dad. Eddie followed his son, as he made his way to the bedside of (Y/n).

Eddie’s expression was filled with confusion as he looked at Buck. “I’m sorry. I couldn't stop him.” Buck apologized. As they looked at Chris who was looking at (Y/n), lying unconscious in the bed.

Buck had been here everyday just like Maddie, checking on (Y/n), but also checking on their brother in law.

“Chris, you're not supposed to be in here. There aren’t kids allowed on the ICU.” Eddie told him as he folded his arms over each other.

“I don’t care.” Chris said as he switched looks from his dad to (Y/n). “She’s my friend too, dad. And I need to tell her something” he continued determined as he looked at her lifeless in the hospital bed he was standing next to.

Eddie wanted to argue, but when he saw the look in his son’s eyes made him sigh. He shrugged as he shook his head, he wasn’t going to be able to change his mind either. “Fine, but just for a minute.” He said as he kept his arms crossed.

Chris nodded as he looked at (Y/n) for a second, “(Y/n), it’s me. Christopher.” He said as he placed his hand onto her hand.

It was hard seeing and hearing his own son talking to her, but he used one hand to cover his mouth.

“I know you’re really hurt right now, but… you have to get better. You promised me you’d teach me how to make those brownies you always make. And you don’t break promises.” Chris said, making Eddie pressing his lips together into a thin line. Fighting the tears that were already streaming down his face.

“And.. because you make my dad smile, he doesn’t smile like that for anyone. You make him happy, so you have to come back.” Christopher continued, as slowly his voice grew more quiet by the word.

“You can’t leave.” He ended his words as he gave her hand a slight squeeze. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than she already had.

The room was quiet again when Chris had left the room and Buck took Eddie’s son back home. Eddie sat in the chair next to her bed, his head resting on his hand. As his eyes were heavy, like he could fall asleep any moment.

The constant beeps of the machines that were monitoring (Y/n)’s vitals were sounding through his ears. Eddie hadn’t slept in days, except for some power naps, but you really couldn’t call those a goodnight sleep.

“Chris has been making you drawings, he said he’s going to bring you one tomorrow.” Eddie said as a small smile appeared on his face at the thought. His voice sounded rough, must been the lack of sleep.

Eddie pushed himself forward, brushing his fingers across her hand. “I’m sure he will not stop making new drawings until you wake up. So you better wake up soon or he’ll use them to wallpaper your room.” He added as a small laugh left his mouth.

He stared at the monitors, that was the only response he got. He sighed as he leaned back into the chair again, this was going to be just another day like the past ones.

But then, there was movement.

It was so silent in the room, Eddie could hear the change in ambience. (Y/n)’s fingers twitched against the blanket. The sound of her skin moving over the fabric made him stand up next to her bedside immediately.

“(Y/n)?” He breathed as he wrapped his hand around hers. Her eyelids fluttered open weakly.

“Hey, (Y/n) it’s me.” He whispered with a trembling voice. “I’m right here baby”

Her eyes opened, unfocused, but then her eyes locked on him. Confusion written all over her face, her lips parting slightly as she wanted to talk.

"Hey," he said gently, leaning closer. "You’re safe." He continued as he tried to read her face.

“Chris?” her voice barely above a whisper.

Relief was written over his face, as he couldn’t help to let out a small laugh. Of course, that was the one person she immediately thought of. She kept him safe at all costs. “He’s safe. Blake’s back where he belongs.”

Tears were pouring down his cheeks, but this time it wasn’t sadness. Pure happiness. Relieve. “Jesus, (Y/n), you scared the hell out of me."

She swallowed loudly, “Sorry..” she mumbled.

“No, no, no. Don’t apologize. Just.. don’t ever scare me like that again.” Eddie said as he squeezed her hand.

She groaned at the pain she felt in her entire body, mostly at her stomach. A small ouch, falling off her lips as she touched her stomach. “What-?” she stumbled.

“Internal bleeding, your heart stopped for like three minutes. They had to rush you into an emergency surgery,”Eddie explained.

“You stayed here?” She then asked as she scanned the room and spotted multiple bags in the room. He nodded. “Of course I did.” He said as he brushed a strand of hair from her face and pushed it behind her ear.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me (Y/n)” he told her, with a small smile on his face. She let out a breathy chuckle, barely audible but enough to make Eddie’s heart make a jump of happiness.

“I love you.” The words left her mouth weakly and slow. Eddie couldn’t help but let the smile grow bigger on his face, “Te amo, mi amor.”

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hi diva!!!! i was wondering if you’ve seen the movie “secretary” 2002….iykyk..

there’s one scene where the main girl crawls towards her boss with some papers in her mouth…hear me out….that scene x stephen glass….

he can be the boss or the one crawling i don’t care! thank u, i love ur work

-💜

TW: Stephen Glass lmao

Author's note: I am a diva again, slay. Welcome to the bunny's family beautiful anon, hope you'll enjoy it :33 also fun fact, I did literally the same thing with Clayton Beresford here

You stood awkwardly in the doorway, papers clutched in your hand, his email instructions still vivid in your mind:

'I need this report on my desk. No edits. Bring it to me in five minutes. Alone.'

STEPHEN GLASS was seated behind his desk, dark hair slightly disheveled, his glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. The soft scribbles of his pen writing on the paper was the only sound you could hear in the room.

“Close the door,” he said without looking up.

You did as you were told, the sound of the latch clicking shut sending a small shiver down your spine. You approached his desk, the papers trembling slightly in your hand.

But before you could set them down, Stephen’s eyes flicked up, pinning you in place as if you did something wrong

“Not like that,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair “i want you to bring them to my on your knees.”

Your breath caught.

Have you heard him properly?

“Excuse me?” you managed, though the slight quaver in your voice betrayed your attempt at defiance.

“You heard me,” he said softly, but there was nothing gentle about the look in his eyes. “Crawl to me.”

Heat flared in your cheeks, indignation and something else—something choking the air out of your lungs. You hesitated, but the way he was gazing at you was unbearable, stripping away every ounce of resistance until you finally sank to your knees.

The carpet scratched against your skin as you inched forward, the papers clutched tightly in your hand. Stephen’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as he watched you close the distance between you.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth - the one you imagined late at night when none was around. “Keep going.”

“Slower,” he murmured yet it was so commanding and firm you obeyed without much thoughts

Your palms pressed against the rough fibers of the floor while you inched forward, your head bowed, too nervous to look at his eyes. Each shuffle of your knees was deliberate, slow (just as he wished), and humiliatingly loud.

By the time you reached him, your heart was pounding, your breath shallow. You held the papers out to him, your arm trembling slightly.

But Stephen didn’t take them.

“Use your mouth,” his voice barely above a whisper.

His expression didn’t falter.

He was completely serious.

Swallowing hard, you hesitated for only a moment before you obeyed, clenching the papers between your teeth. Stephen’s gaze flicked to your lips, his lips quivering as he reached out, brushing his fingers against the edge of the paper as he took it from you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfacting approval.

Your cheeks burned, your knees aching from the position, but there was something undeniably electrifying about him at the moment. The power he held over you, making you submit so easily.

“You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if he was on the edge of finishing something..

Your thighs clenched instinctively, a spark of heat shooting through you at his words. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer.

Your answer.

“Say it,” he demanded, his tone sharper now, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible around the papers. “I’ll do anything.”

Stephen’s eyes glittered with satisfaction “Good.”

He set the papers down on his desk without a glance, his focus entirely on you. His hand slid under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, your entire body trembling under the weight of it.

“Now,” he said, his thumb brushing along your jawline in a touch that was as gentle as it was possessive, “let’s see just how far you’re willing to go.”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: gotta right my final reflection today and then I don't have schoolwork for a while!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, when is the wedding?” Lillians asks over a half-empty plate. 

You take your time chewing. You don’t have an answer. As far as you’re concerned, this is Lloyd’s plot so he can come up with the detail. You're here to enjoy the wine. 

“Uh, the spring,” he blurts out. 

“The spring?” Gwenyth repeats. “Don’t you have a specific date?” 

“Erm, May something...” Lloyd says. 

“May? That’s so soon. If you don’t even have a date, I doubt you have a venue or a dress or--” Lillian counters. 

“Oh, well, we were thinking of. Er...” Lloyd turns his fork in this hand. “Eloping?” 

“Eloping,” Gwenyth hisses. “Eloping? Does that mean we’re not invited? It’s simply not fair.” 

“Mom, I--” 

“Gwen, he didn’t say that, did he?” 

“Well, dad--” 

“We are invited,” William states. It’s not a question. 

“You see what happens?” Gwen takes her cloth napkin and folds it, dabbing her tearless eyes, “the groom’s mother is always excluded. He is my son--” 

“A destination wedding would be nice,” William suggests. 

“Uh, of course. Yeah. We’d like to go somewhere far away, but uh, not far from you...” Lloyd stammers and you kick his foot. You could laugh at how flustered he is if you were entwined in his lies. He sits straighter, “We’ll have the invitations out soon. Everyone’s invited of course--” 

You kick him again. He slips his hand on your knee and squeezes, “we’re still figuring things out,” he declares. 

“Oh, it seems so!” Gwenyth clasps the napkin between her hands. “Darling, you must let me help. And Lillian. Her wedding was fabulous.” 

“Which one?” Lloyd snickers. 

“We’ll see if you even have one,” his sister retorts. 

He cackles and William sighs. 

“Yes, weddings. All that mess,” William drawls. “The ladies can suss out the details but I do believe it’s time for the yearly rematch.” 

“You still do that?” Lloyd asks. 

“Hm, of course. It is a tradition. What’s the matter? You too old, boy?” 

“Speak for yourself,” Lloyd bounces back, shocking you with the snipe. 

Another surprise, William laughs. 

“Ben may need to sit out,” William suggests. 

“Oh, to the contrary, old boy, I’ve had just enough bourbon that I am a prized asset in my state,” the man with the fluffy ash hair doffs his mug. 

“Hm, yes, Carter, Linus, Ransom, Ben, myself, Lloyd,” William counts on his fingers, “Dawson, Lewis, Hudson, and Owen. Quite the lineup this year.” 

You look at Lloyd confused. He doesn’t look excited. You reach under the table and move his hand off your leg. He flinches and glances over at you. 

“Is this some sort of cribbage tournament?” You scoff under your breath. 

He shakes his head. “Touch football...” 

“Football...” You peer across the table with concerns. At least four of the players named are a bit too old to be running around in the snow. 

“It’s fine. Just like tag,” Lloyd shrugs unconvincingly. You chew your lip as you consider him. His eyes follow the movement and you stop yourself. “What?” He asks. 

“I’m just trying to picture it,” you say. “You don’t seem like a football person.” 

“What does that mean? You don’t seem like one either? What would you know?” You hiss back. 

“Ah, dear,” William calls across the table, “do not fear for his safety. We are all family, no one means to hurt each other.” 

Despite his assurance, you’re even less convinced that there won’t be some horrible accident. Again, you remind yourself, it’s Lloyd’s problems. Your sole focus is the money. And the wine. 

You reach to drain your glass, “I’m not worried at all,” you smile, “oh, and honey,” you turn to Lloyd, “you never asked but I love football. I’m a big Bills fan, actually. Remember, laces out.” 

Lloyd grumbles and stands. The other men do in a lazy succession. They stretch and groan over the scraping chair legs. The women rise too and start to clear the table. You’re not a fan of that divide; the men get their fun and the women get to tidy, but you will not be as rude as they’ve accused you. 

You start to gather cutlery and plates. Lloyd startles you as he puts his hand on your hip to stop you. You face him. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” He says. 

You bat your lashes and smirk. You’re amused that he thinks you’re that concerned. 

“Oh, I’m sure you can handle a game of tag, but you might want to stretch. There’s no one you can pay to run the ball for you,” you snort. 

You move past him and follow Lillian. He huffs as you leave him to the rabble of old man talking trash. As you enter the kitchen, Lillian sets the plates on the counter and you put yours next to hers. You take the top one and scrape it clean. 

“You’ll enjoy it. It’s always a good show. I am interested to see the teams this year,” she trills. “Of course, without Lloyd around for so long, I had to step in. Unfortunately, this year, I'm in no condition to lace up.” 

“Oh, it sounds like a fun tradition,” you remark. 

“It’s wonderful fun,” she assures as Gwenyth enters. Lillian shifts closer and lowers her voice, “also, you might want to consider, Lloyd wasn’t keeping us from you, perhaps it was the opposite. We are a rather selective bunch.” 

You meet her bruising sneer and smile. The wine helps drown your agitation. Why should you be bothered? Once you have your money, it won’t worry what the bloated bitch thinks? Oops, let’s keep those thoughts inside. 

“Oh, I’ll be sure to thank him for that,” you wink. She frowns. 

“Leave the plates at the sink, ladies,” Gwenyth commands. “Let’s grab out coats! The powder’s fresh. It’ll be a good match.” 

It’s odd. You really didn’t take this horde of pretentious ghouls as the football type. Well, maybe not the NFL-watching, tailgating type in pickups or minivans. Still, you can’t help but be a little amped for a Christmas game. 

There’s a crunch at the front door. Andrea, Angela, and Raquel warble with Gwenyth, as Shanna, Linda, and Lana come over to admire Lillian’s bump and ask her about the birth plans, while you stand to the side and watch Beatrice with a few younger girls, the elder daughters from all those pairing, who are less than enthused about the whole show. The parade of names escape you though you hardly wonder who is who. 

Your eyes wander to the next room. The younger kids are kept busy before the large Christmas tree by women you haven’t been introduced too. You assume those are the nannies Lloyd mentioned. It’s rather grim, a family divided as if the younger generation were a nuisance. Despite the enthusiasm for Lillian’s coming child, the poor soul will only end up at kids’ table apart from their mother. 

The men chatter near the open door as a brisk wind flows in. As you reach for your coat, you collide with another. You turn in the tight space to face Ransom as he cracks his neck. 

“You going to cheer me on, baby girl?” He smirks at you. 

You stare at him crisply. You continue to pull your coat on as you censor the variations of ‘hell no’ rolling through your mind. You look around for an escape but there isn’t one. The entry way is packed with bodies. 

“It will be cathartic. You’d just be cheering on the team, not necessarily, cheering against your beloved fiance,” he snickers. 

You look at him dully, “oh, I'm certain you’ll run circles around a team full of middle aged and elder men.” 

“You love to see it,” he grins and reaches around you. Before you can react, he pinches your ass again. You hit his chest as he pulls away and rubs his fingertips together, “for good luck.” 

“You’re nasty.” 

“Look at who you came with, sweetheart,” he sticks his tongue out and turns away. “But I understand if it’s my ass you’re watching out in the snow.” 

You curl your lip as you zip up your coat and shuffle over near the women. The men disburse through the front door ahead of you. They holler at each other, pointing impatiently, “over there.”; “Ben, too far”, “No, you snap--” 

You watch them break into team in the snowy street, barren of cars in the calm of Christmas Day. You tuck your hands into your pocket as you stand along the curb and the other women puff clouds into the frigid air. Lazy flakes swirl down and add to the glowing ambiance of the wintry midday. 

William, Ransom, Linus, Dawson, and Hudson huddle on one side with the ball as the others, Benson, Lloyd, Carter, Lewis, and Owen watch, waiting to respond to the first play. You’re not expecting anything more than wobbling throws and clumsy runs, still, it’s better than arguing at the dinner table. 

Ransom gets down to snap to William. The ball passes hands as Dawson runs a route and Ransom and Linus block the front light. Hudson takes the running backs route for the fake handoff before William searches for his receiver. Not bad for amateurs, especially given the demographic. 

The ball is caught as Owen makes the touch. No proper tackle, just a tap on Dawson’s shoulders. The play end as the next play is called in the huddle. Instead of moving down the street, the team resets at the same line, counting yard from that point. 

Another snap. The run is stuffed as Lloyd makes the touch on Hudson, almost indifferent about the play. The women cheer but not at the right times. They’re not really paying attention as they garble about desserts or their hair stylists. 

“You know what would be perfect, some mulled cider,” Beatrice suggests. The comment does make you thirsty but you’re not so sure you’d trade the cold outside for that inside. 

The ball switches possessions. Lloyd takes the snap. You’re a bit surprised but Benson is swaying in his blocking position. That’s less shocking. 

Snap. A pass. Straight and on target. Carter, one of William’s brothers, makes the catch and runs for ten more. Or what’s assumed to be that man. 

A new call. Lloyd rambles out signals in a parody of a real game. “Blood. Wine. Beemer, beemer beemer. Black sheep...” Your eye is drawn by Ransom as he shifts low. You tilt your head. 

“Offside,” you mutter as the ball snaps. Ransom’s across the line before the blockers can react and before the ball can change hands. In an instant, Lloyd is in the snow beneath the other man. 

“Oh my!” “Gosh.” “Ransom...” The concern washes over the audience of women as the men stop the play and turn to look at the two men in the snow. 

The latch onto each other in a toothless brawl. Lloyd knocks Ransom into the snow and grabs his neck. Ransom grips him in turn and they roll back and forth, trying to throttle each other. The other men move to separate them. 

“You two,” William booms. 

“Oh, Ransom, what are you doing?” Linda rushes over. 

“Linda,” William growls as Lloyd is dragged away from her son. “We were kind in letting him come here after everything--” 

“Oh, don’t blame him. Your son is just as bad.” 

“My son has a job,” William snarls back. 

“Don’t worry, that cuck barely got a ding on me,” Lloyd sneers as he shrugs the other men off. There’s a raw and red patch on his cheek bone and snow in his mussed hair. Scratches peek out above his collar as he coughs. 

“Fucker’s weak as pudding,” Ransom jeers back. 

“Both of you. That’s disgusting,” William growls. “Enough. Both of you, benched.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Lloyd whines. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re ruining the game,” William says. “Both of you, go inside.” 

“He antagonized him,” Linda squalls, “you heard his play call--” 

“Your son’s grown. He can handle words,” William rebuffs. “You can go inside with them.” 

You’re disappointed. It wasn’t bad while it lasted. Lloyd chuffs and steps around his father. Several bodies move to keep him away from Ransom. He rolls his eyes and waves them off. 

“He’s not worth it,” he stomps over to you. “Whatever, let’s get some hot chocolate or some shit. Better than standing in the snow with a bunch of geezers.” 

He grabs your arm and you have no choice but to let him lead you away. You can hear Ransom pleading his own case, whining at his mom, as she huffs and sighs. The argument fades as you near the front door. 

Lloyd pushes through and drags you in with him. He checks his reflection in the wall mirror, fixing his hair as he winces. He left his coat and blazer inside, wearing only his black turtleneck, now wet from the snow and streaked with salt along his back. He shakes his head at himself. 

You undo your coat and hang it. You almost want to call it a day. You came to brunch, you faced the wolves, and there isn’t enough wine to make them tolerable. 

He touches his cheek and hisses, “ugh, bastard.” 

“Hard hit,” you say. 

“Sure was. Who knew the brat had it in him?” He gingerly presses his cheekbone, “ugh, well, Pix, how about you kiss it better?” 

“What?” You grimace. “No way.” 

“But it hurts,” he turns to you and pushes his bottom lip out. 

“Uh uh,” you cross your arms. “We need to talk. About the wedding.” 

“Really? You wanna talk about that?” 

“Lloyd, I said a courthouse.” 

“I know but...” he pauses and glances around the entry way, “come on.” 

He ushers you down the hall and into the bathroom. He shuts the door and you’re once more trapped in the tight space with a Hansen twin. He stands in front of the door as he faces you. 

“Look, I’m just trying to get this done. It’s good for both of us. You want your money, don’t you? So you need to play along.” 

“I am.” 

“It’s just a fucking ceremony and a dinner.” He argues. 

“It’s not what I agreed too.” 

“Yeah, well, we have to be convincing if we want our prize.” 

You scowl, “I really am not enjoying this whole ‘we’ narrative.” 

“That’s the script, Pixie pie. So put a little bit of energy into it.” He steps closer and you stiffen as he puts his hands on your shoulders. “Loosen up and you might actually have a bit of fun.” 

“It was supposed to be the holiday and the courthouse,” you insist. 

“Not good enough. We both know it.” 

“I want more money,” you grit. 

He pouts again, “you drive a hard bargain for such a soft little thing.” 

You push him away as he goes to stroke his cheek. 

“Two million. I’m not wearing a white dress for anything less.” 

“Baby, please, you’re bleeding me dry--” 

“I’m not blind, Lloyd.” You look around emphatically, “I know what I’m asking for is a fraction of what you’ll get. I’ve worked for you long enough to know your tactics. Whatever I ask, I’m being undersold. Two or I walk right now.” 

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, “let me just see a little ass.” 

You blink, stunned by his barter. You shake your head. “Not for a three million.” 

“Ugh, fine. You’re so damn stubborn. I like it but I also hate it,” he sighs. “Two,” he pulls his hand free and offers it. You shake it with a triumphant smirk. “Let’s seal that the right way.” 

He tightens his hold on you as he grabs the back of your head and bends to smother you with a bristly kiss. You squeak before you can pull away. You scoff at him and yank your hand free to wipe your lips. 

“It’s gonna happen, Pixie,” he grins. “Trust.” 

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hoping that this isn't weird but IMAGINE Vox having everything, fame, money, power, but he loses the one thing he treasures the most on extermination day– his family. Like imagine if Vox and his pregnant wife had this hugee argument before extermination day causing her to storm out of the tower, but he didn't chase her cause it was just probably the hormones and she'd come back. But she didn't manage to come back in time. So Vox had to wait in the tower cause he couldn't go out and pray that she was okay. After the extermination, he of course went ballistic trying to find her, jumping from camera to camera until he found her corpse in some random dark alley. What would be the aftermath? I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD I JUST CRAVEE ANGST ‼️‼️😭

A/N — I rewrote this a total of four times 😭 I hope this satisfies your need for angst, my lovely anon. This is the one my sister finally approved for everyone to see. Poor kid hates reading my fanfic and she's been subjected to being my conscience while I wrote this. I had to bribe her with coffee and a 20 piece nugget from McDonald's to get her to read more than a paragraph 😭

Fade To Black

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, Fem!Reader, loss of wife + child, Vox in denial, got kinda dark with the implications at the end(?), Alastor is mentioned a few times. Guys, I'm literally so sorry

Word Count: 1.2K

“You're not listening to me!” You reiterated for what felt like the billionth time, your gaze momentarily darting to the small curve of your stomach where one of your hands rested securely, the other on your hip.

Vox sighed, exasperated. “Listen, Doll, I'm hearing what you're saying and—”

“—That's exactly the problem! You're hearing what I'm saying but you're not actually listening to me, Vox! For Hell's sake, step away from your work and weird obsession with the Radio Demon for two seconds and focus on what's important!” 

The words felt like knives as you spoke them, each one spearing the air of the penthouse. The room fell silent. The other vees were no stranger to the arguments that broke out, hell, they were a part of most of them. . . But not this one. . . Vox stiffened and squared his shoulders. 

“My work is important. My work is what allows us to live the afterlife we do.” He said, his tone firm, almost condescending. 

“And what about your obsession, huh? Watching the rinky-dink hotel cameras in your office after hours for a glimpse of that antlered little freak who doesn't give a shit about you — when you should be home, here, with me?” 

You waited for an answer, yet Vox only stared at you. It was painfully clear that he didn't know what to say. “Lucifer's tits — fuck you!” You hissed, throwing your hands up in the air, showing just how done you were with all of this.

The next moment, you were turning on your heel and storming out of the room. 

Vox only scoffed and dropped onto the couch, watching as you walked away. Hormones. He thought to himself. It had to be.

He'd never seen you so worked up about his late nights at the office. Never seen you so angry when referencing Alastor, who had once been a good friend and mentor to you. 

Hormones. It was the only logical explanation, right?

He let you go, knowing you needed your space. . . Knowing you'd come home once you cleared your head and had just enough patience to once again approach the topic with a semi-level head, likely once the extermination was over.

You knew the moment you cleared the doors of the tower that you had likely overreacted. The hot, dry air of Hell against your skin seemed to bring the realization to the forefront of your mind. 

Yet it was pride and stubbornness that kept you from turning back to the tower, rather storming through the desolate back alleyways, a metaphorical thundercloud looming over your head.

Vox hadn't followed you, and you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of going back. You loved him, and you knew he loved you too — as shocking as it was that the two of you found genuine love in Hell.

As much as you loved him, he infuriated you, even more so now that you were carrying his child. . . 

The carnage of Extermination Day met your ears and your steps faltered, drawing you to a stop as your instincts then screamed at you to go home. To go where it was safe. 

Safe. 

Safe at Vox's side. At home. . .

How could you have forgotten what day it was? The anger. It had to have been the reason for your lapse in memory. . . So you began heading back towards the tower. 

Pride and stubbornness be damned.

Sticking to the shadows, you ventured forward towards the net of safety that you so desperately needed.

So close, yet so far.

Too far. 

It'd been too long. 

You'd been gone too long. 

The moment Extermination Day had been declared finished, Vox was out looking for you. Every camera on every street he could possibly reach. 

Every sinner he found dead and dying in the streets, he hoped he wouldn't see your face. Your beautiful face. . . The thought alone made something twist in his gut like a double edged blade — fear, he recognized. 

Pure unbridled fear. 

Fear of losing you. Fear of losing the two most important beings in his entire afterlife. 

He searched for what seemed like forever, until he caught a glimpse of you in an alleyway, almost entirely hidden from view. He easily recognized your clothes you had been wearing that day and your hair — oh, how he loved that hair. 

Relief flooded him as he rushed towards you, though it disappeared, his heart plummeting as he dropped to his knees.

“Hey, Doll, wake up. . . It's okay, it's over.” He said, his voice shaky as his hands came up to either side of your face. 

“You did good. . . You played dead so you could survive. They're gone now — you can open your eyes, Doll. . . Please open your eyes. . .” He begged softly, his touch and voice becoming more frantic.

“No, no, no, open your eyes for me, okay? I know you're mad at me, Doll, I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . .” He pulled your body closer to his, clutching you close. One hand held the back of your head to his chest, the other trailed down to your stomach. 

Too many emotions clawed at him as he begged you to wake up, to give up the charade. . . He made promises to make it up to you. He'd spend more time at home with you. He'd give up on his obsession with Alastor. He'd do it. He would do it for you. . . 

But it was too late. . . The blood that soaked your clothes and his was a chilling reminder. . . The all powerful TV Demon choked out a sob as your skin turned cold beneath his hands. 

His world stopped spinning, the axis snapping and floating off into the abyss as he held you close. . . He wasn't used to feeling your skin cold. He was used to the warmth, the life, the light that came from you. 

He couldn't feel you. 

And it killed him. 

He couldn't breathe. His chest ached. Nothing in all of Hell mattered more than you. More than the child that had been created out of love and the use of a loophole within Hell's complex laws of nature. 

And now it had been ripped away from him. He hated himself. He was angry. 

It felt as if the light and warmth had been sucked out of his universe, leaving nothing but cold darkness that seeped into his very soul, gnawing at him, tearing him apart from the inside out. 

He could hardly remember his afterlife before you. Now, facing a reality where he'd have to live in an afterlife without you. . . It consumed him in all the wrong ways. . . 

He wanted you back. 

He needed you back. 

Yet the darkness that gnawed and clawed at his entire being, the absence of you — your light that was supposed to guide him through this perpetual landscape of flame and rot for all eternity. . . The shadows remained like a constant reminder, a plague of its own, slowly eating away at him at every opportunity. 

Without your light, he was nothing. 

Without your laugh, he was nothing. 

Without your attitude, he was nothing. 

Without your warmth, he was nothing.

Nothing more than a shell of the overlord he used to be. . . And when the shadows clawed at his mind like a beast seeking a debt to be paid, he let them win. 

He let it all fade to black. 

[bratbarzal]

On My Side (NH13)

Pairing: Nico "I think the hockey gods were on my side" Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy

WC: 6k

part of the On Your Side universe

*This is a bonus chapter set after the ending of the overall fic, and can be read as a standalone if you haven't read the fic, but if you want to understand their dynamic and Poppy's personality a little more, you should!!!

Description: 18+ MDNI, Nico comes home to Poppy after scoring his first ever career hat-trick for the Devils. Way more fluff than smut but Nico is down bad as always.

A/N: You're all a bunch of enablers and that's all I have to say on the matter!!! Hope this fills the void while I continue to struggle with chapter ten lmao there is mention of Baby Cheeto in here but no spoilers for her name. Nico calls her Bug as a nickname, like _____-Bug, Chäferli (little bug) or just Bug for short, but it isn't her actual name. I can't use Cheeto forever lmao. I was literally trying to think of a title and remembered he said the words "on my side" WHAT IF I TOLD YOU HE'S A MASTERMIND he's an oys!truther if I ever saw one! Painfully obsessed with Poppy if you ask me. Also the way Cheeto would rock the heck out of this it's so cute I had to share

Nico Hischier likes to think he’s a patient man.

Finally scoring his first career hat-trick after 8 years in the NHL, after 476 games played with the Devils, would be the ultimate testament to that.

Doing so in the first ever game with his daughter in attendance - on home turf, his mother and Poppy holding her up in the family suite during warm-ups in her little Devils teddy sleeper that he can only just make out from down on the ice, but has his rampant heart beating out of his chest all the same - has him thinking that maybe, after all those years, after all those games, the stars had been aligning for him the whole time. 

And it was that sort of patience he had tried to tune into since the end of the second period, when he knew Poppy had left early to try skip traffic and get their little girl home safe for bed.

It’s what he tries to channel in the aftermath of the game, swarmed by reporters in the locker room, trying to remain polite and professional, not rushing them through their questions or giving half-assed answers - knowing he owes a lot more than that to the organisation that has allowed him to get this far. Trying to save just a speck of energy to give when he finally gets home, collapsing into the warm embrace of the girls he knows are waiting patiently for him.

It’s what he holds onto when he has to take a detour on his way home, dropping his mom off at her hotel and trying not to visibly squirm in his seat as she regales him with stories of how his daughter had captured the hearts of everyone she encountered, swallowing down the slight jealousy that he hadn’t been there to see it and clinging to the fact that he had his own success elsewhere in the night - success that played second fiddle in his own mother’s eyes to the experience of sharing her granddaughter’s first ever game with her, an experience he had to endure twice as she called his father from his car, deep chuckles ringing through the speakers as he tried to get a word in edge ways beyond her excitement.

It’s what has him shaking with anticipation as he almost skips down the hall to their apartment, mustering up the rest of his energy to walk into their home without the weight of the world on his shoulders, leaving any doubt, any insecurity, any lingering self-deprecation at the door so he can bask in this moment with the two hearts that are shaped entirely to fit him into them.

And it’s what has him shaking off whatever disappointment tries to creep in when he sees his little girl asleep in Poppy’s arms, knowing whatever tiny part of her he will ever get will always be enough - even if her big, glassy eyes aren’t looking up at him, even if he doesn’t come home to one of those heart-stopping beaming smiles she has started to give to him whenever he enters the room - her being here, sleeping safely in the arms of her beautiful mother, and him getting to come home to whatever version of them he can, is more than he could ever ask for.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the hat-trick hero.” Poppy’s soft voice carries to him as he makes his way over, dropping his bag on the floor and keys on the counter, heading straight to where she is now standing and pressing a kiss to her waiting lips. “Hi, handsome.”

“She didn’t wanna say goodnight to her daddy, huh?” He tries not to sound too dejected - he’s supposed to be on a high, after all - but after half an hour of his mother unintentionally bragging about all the attention she had been giving to her Gromi all night, he can’t help the slight sag of his shoulders - especially knowing that she’s going to be spending the morning with his mom tomorrow, too.

“Sorry, baby, we watched a little of you on the TV and then she got hangry,” Nico finds himself hypnotised by her still figure, enamoured with the way she exudes sheer calmness. The smile that creeps up on his lips seems to do so by muscle memory - a dopey kind of smile he’s probably had plastered on his face since she came into the world kicking and screaming 2 months ago, a smile permanently etched into his features from probably even before that. “I promise I tried to keep her up, she literally fell asleep on my boob.” Poppy whispers, watching with warm, glittery eyes as Nico takes in the sight of his two favourite people in front of him - Poppy already changed into one of his shirts, settled for the night, and his baby girl all cosy in her little teddy bear onesie, pacifier bobbing between her plush little lips.

“Look at her hat,” he pouts, running a finger along the folded seam of the way-too-big beanie Poppy has perched on top of her head, the knit fabric falling just short of her closed eyes. “That’s adorable.”

“Your mom put it on her before we left,” Poppy chuckles lightly, “Wanted to keep it on until you got home, we had to celebrate the hatty properly.” Her brows raise as if gesturing to the bill of the cap on her own head, one of his, he’s sure - no doubt stolen from their closet as soon as she got home.

“My little good luck charm,” he leans down to press a kiss to her cheek before he lifts himself back up and bends toward Poppy, “Gonna have to start coming to all the games.”

“I’ll let you break the news to her when she wakes up,” she hums as he presses his lips to hers, “She has a very low tolerance for everybody telling her to smile and getting all up in her space, been grouchy all night.”

“Just like Mami, huh, bug?”

“Oh, you think you’ve got jokes now?” Poppy scoffs as she steps back, ready to take their daughter to bed.  “Score your first hatty and you think you’re funny?”

“Always been funny, babe,” he smirks, flicking at the cap sat on her head before he takes it off, flipping it to place on top of his own and following her down the hall. “I’ll prove it to you when I get her first laugh.”

“She’ll be laughing at you, not with you.”

“Better than nothing.”

Nico sits on the edge of their bed as Poppy reaches into the crib to retrieve the sleeping bag in there before she lays it down beside him. He does the work unzipping and readying it for her to place their daughter inside while she rocks her still-sleeping body, and the two of them work in tandem to get her inside before zipping her back up, with Nico softly pulling the beanie from her head and watching her fluffy hair fan out in its absence. 

He runs a gentle hand over her head to smooth it down as Poppy lifts her, and leans into where she offers her up for a kiss before she puts her in the crib. Nico watches with a soft smile etched into his features, the familiarity of it all spreading warmth throughout his chest, his favourite part of every day being this - sharing a goodnight routine in the comfortable quiet, the two loves of his life safe and happy within arms reach.

None of it feels new or daunting anymore, just easy - and despite the constant warnings of it not always being this way, Nico just wants to feel it to its fullest extent; sheer happiness and serenity. 

Poppy returns to the front of him, and he instinctively spreads his legs to accommodate her, palms laying flat against his chest and his hands falling to her hips. She just looks at him for a good few seconds, eyes shimmering with admiration, lips tugged between teeth and a head tilted as her expression flickers into something more intense. 

Her hands travel down his arms, wordlessly, until she grasps at his wrists and pulls him to stand, leaning up to press a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. “C’mon,” she whispers while her lips are still against his skin, “Wanna celebrate you.”

As if getting to come home to her isn’t celebration enough.

He follows her back through the hall with their hands clasped together, arms stretched between them so he can watch the hem of his shirt ride up against the backs of her soft thighs, and he starts to feel his throat go dry.

He thinks of all those mornings they would spend in the kitchen together in the summer, his shirts a little tighter around her pregnant belly, riding up against her curves and leaving very little to the imagination when she’d wear just his t-shirt and nothing else.

She’s wearing panties now, he can tell, could see the bottom of them peaking out when she’d leaned over to put their daughter in her crib. But he doesn’t mind inching them off, quite likes the slow pace of unwrapping her like a gift - a well-deserved present for all his hard efforts on the ice.

It’s where his fingers find themselves almost immediately when she stops just short of the couch, spinning and practically launching herself into his waiting arms. He can’t help but chuckle as they collide, large arms wrapping around her frame as she melts into him, hands gripping either side of his jaw to pull him down in a clash of teeth and tongues. He palms at her ass as she presses her hips forward, fingers slipping under the hem of her panties and wriggling under them until his knuckles are covered by the fabric, squeezing at the flesh until she groans into his open mouth. 

He feels deft fingers working between them to rid him of his own clothes, clumsily popping open the buttons of his jacket before working their way up his chest, slipping into the arms and helping him shrug it off. The weight of it drops to the floor with a heavy thud, and when her hands return to his chest for the next item of clothing to be removed, she pushes him back with an exaggerated huff.

“Baby, how many layers do you need?”

“You in some kind of rush, or something?” He chuckles, chasing her lips with a crane of his neck, getting a quick kiss in before she pushes him back again with palms laid flat on his broad chest.

“Your daughter has some sort of radar for when we’re within 2 inches of each other,” she says as her hands slide down, the feel of them through the extra layers he has on still present as she travels past the hard ridges of his abdomen. She grasps tight at the bottom of his hoody, and he lends a hand to tugging it up and over his head, throwing that to the floor, too. “We gotta get a move on before she wakes up,”

“My daughter?” He scoffs, removing his undershirt while she’s distracted, relishing the feeling of a heavy gaze on his chest once it’s fully revealed to her hungry eyes. “She’s really given you such a hard time that you’re disowning her?”

“She isn’t letting me have a hard time at all, that’s the problem.” Her hands reach back out seemingly of their own volition, fingers fanning out across his skin as her stare glides down, the weight of it sliding down his skin to the point he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. 

“That was weak for you.” He teases.

“I’m out of practice,” she pouts, closing the distance once more and pressing her lips to the slightly stubbled skin of his jaw, nipping at the flesh as her ministrations travel across his features, his jaw, his neck, the spot just below his ear, where she mutters, “Wanna show you how proud I am of you,”

“Oh yeah?” He asks as she works at the button of his pants, pushing until they pool at his feet and he can kick them off.

“Mmhm,” she moves her kisses back to his waiting lips, “Been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”

“Been waiting to get my hands on you all day,” he mutters back, bending to lift her with hands gripping her ass, “Been thinking about you teasing me in the kitchen this morning,” he starts heading for the couch, mind spinning as she continues kissing him - thinking of all the plans she had been making for the two of them while his mom takes Little Bug out in the morning, finally giving them some much needed, uninterrupted time to themselves. Plans of wasting the morning away between the sheets, sharing showers, having no responsibilities other than paying attention to one another. “Thinking about having you all to myself tomorrow."

“You gonna let me give you a preview?” 

He chuckles as he falls back onto the couch, all grace thrown out the window as they sink into the cushions, her still holding onto him and now straddling his lap, lips stretched into a blissful smile as he looks up at her.

She presses them straight to his, and he can’t bring himself to mind the way their teeth clash at her eagerness, hips grinding down onto his as she settles onto her knees.

He could spend forever kissing her like this, sensual and sloppy, the slight scratch of her nails against the sides of his neck and his grip on her thighs guiding her movements straight onto the aching growth between his legs.

He bucks up to meet her, and their lips part with a wet smack as she groans. 

"Bet you can’t wait for me to shave, eh?” he smiles as he swipes a thumb across the space between her nose and lip, the skin red raw from the scratch of his moustache.

“You know damn well I’d ban you from ever touching a razor again if I could.” She says, breathlessly, slowly thrusting down onto him.

“Tell that to your little red muzzy, you’re giving Luke a run for his money,”

“Hey,” she swats at his chest in feigned outrage, “The kid tried his best!” 

“No more talk about Hughes when you’re sat on my lap,”

“You brought him up!”

“Thought I was getting a preview,” he groans as he shuffles, reaching between them to slip a hand between her legs, tucking his fingers beneath her panties and swiping against her heat. “Jesus, Poppy.”

“Told you I’ve been thinking about you all night,” she pecks at his lips again, raising her hips a little to give him further access to slide his fingers through the almost excessive wetness that’s near enough soaked through her panties. 

He prods at her entrance, two fingers slipping straight in until she’s gasping against his cheek in sheer bliss. His digits move with ease, working his way up to his knuckles as he drinks up her pleasured moans, his chin tilting until their open mouths just press together without kissing, panting against one another as he works her up. 

He pushes the fabric of his shirt up her thighs with his other hand, exposing his handiwork to hungry eyes so he can see the way she glistens between her legs - can see the way his fingers slide in an out of her.

She takes his shirt off, throwing it beside them on the couch so she can see too, looking down for only a moment before she’s throwing her head back.

He’s so hard just watching her that it’s almost painful - straining against the seams of his briefs until they’re tenting beneath her. And she must notice, nimble fingers working him out until he’s thick and hot and heavy in her palm, gripping around him in with her thumb swiping at his tip, hips shuffling until his fingers slip out of her heat and she can move on her knees to hover above his waiting cock. 

He takes a hold of himself while her hands raise to steady herself on his shoulders, and he waits with bated breath as she lowers herself, sinking past her entrance until he’s sheathed entirely, tight, wet walls wrapped around him in a long-awaited embrace.

Their moans fall out in sync, both of them stilling, the only movements between them being the soft rise and fall of panting chests. 

It’s a minute before she starts to rock her hips, leaning back down to distract herself from whatever unease needs to fade away with the press of her lips to his - tongue swiping at his, sucking and nipping at the muscle as she works herself to the point where she can lift herself up a little.

“Fuck me,” he whines out in an elongated groan as she sinks down on him again, tight and slick and warm, and he feels tension in every cell in his body, strung taut to the point where he feels like he could snap entirely in any given moment.

“I’m working on it,” she pouts, “Think I overestimated my talents here,”

“Think you’re very talented,” he hums, pressing a kiss to her jaw as he lays large hands on the dip of her waist, fingers tickling into the arch of her back so her movements are a little smoother, a little more fluid. “So good to me, yeah? Just need a hand.”

He guides her hips into a steady rhythm - up, down, forward, back - until she’s rocking onto him in a mind numbing pace. 

God, he thinks, this is heaven.

It’s been so long since he’s had her like this. Probably all the way back in Switzerland in the summer, and he thinks a lot about this situation mirrors that - trying to stay quiet, trying to feel as much of each other as they possibly can without drawing attention from sleeping parties one room over. 

He remembers thinking, all those months ago, that it wouldn’t be possible to love Poppy any more than he did, then - that he couldn’t possibly feel more for her than he did when he shared that part of his world, and she had embraced it with open arms. She had blended straight into his family, had adapted herself to his routine, had brought new life and colour to what he had always considered vibrant, anyway, but she had changed the meaning of it all.

But she had done the same to life in Jersey. 

Long gone were any feelings of homesickness he used to get - especially around this time of the year. Fully immersed now into his season, summer seeming too far from his reach that he started to forget what home felt like. But not anymore.

Home is Poppy. Home is their baby girl sleeping soundly in the next room. It’s playing one of the greatest games of his career so far, meeting milestones he had been reaching for for so long, standing in the centre of the arena he has built his career in, hearing the rapturous cheers of fans chanting his name, and driving back knowing the love garnered there could never possibly compare to the love waiting for him in his apartment.

He brings her face down with a palm splayed gently across her jaw, fingers reaching back to tickle at the nape of her neck and thumb swiping tenderly at her soft cheekbone, until their mouths collide. He shifts his hips to meet her ministrations, finding a rhythm that has her gasping into his mouth, enough that his tongue can slip past the seam of her lips and press against hers - hot and fervid and eager.

He wonders as the pressure builds if this passion will ever wither. If this need to profess his love for her will ever wain away, if he’ll ever be casual about the way in which she has become the entire centre of his universe.

He hopes not. 

He hopes when he’s 80, he looks over at her and his heart still hammers in his chest. He hopes his mouth struggles to make sense of all the ways in which his brain tries to convey what she means to him - hopes he still stutters around his sentences and feels weak to the very base of his spine at the mere thought of her. 

In fact, he doesn’t hope at all.

He knows he will.

“You feel so good,” Poppy mutters into his mouth, panting against his swollen lips, “I’ve missed this so much.”

“Yeah?” He thrusts up, “You missed being full of me?”

He’s missed this far out look in her eyes, glassed over and almost gone as she nods in response - they haven’t really been able to get to this stage with their quick fumbles and rushed hookups in the last 2 weeks since she got the all clear from her doctor for them to start being intimate again. Sure, they had developed other methods over those first 6 weeks, making good use of hands and mouths in whatever limited time they could find together, but nothing compares to this.

To being attached at every point like they are one.

“You gonna come for me?”

He still remembers her tells, fluttering lashes, trembling thighs, stuttered breaths all combined with the spine tingling way in which she tightens around him, and he manages to time it so they come together, one final burst of energy used to lift his hips just as she sinks down, body slumping into tremors that wrack through the both of them.

He holds her in place for a second, large hands pushing his shirt up her back as he starts to rub circles into her flesh, soothing her back into a softened consciousness - hazy and frazzled but still in tune with every movement he makes. 

Her nose presses into the expanse of his neck, lips pecking at all the sensitive spots she can seek out as they both try to catch their breaths - and he realises she was probably right before, they haven’t had time like this for a while now. 

Still, he’ll take what he can get.

She lifts her hips just enough for him to slip out, and reaches to the small table at the side of the couch where she has miraculously stashed a pack of baby wipes. She takes two out, using one to clean the both of them before she bundles it into the clean one and discards of it back onto the table to be disposed when she eventually gets the feeling back in her legs.

And it’s as soon as Poppy’s legs give way and she collapses into him that they both hear it - a soft wail carrying through the monitor behind the couch. Cries filling the space around them and bursting their bubble with an almighty pop!

“Told you,” Poppy mumbles into his neck, skin sticky with a soft sheen of sweat. “Won’t even let me get a hatty of my own,”

Nico scoffs, snorting out a loud chuckle that shakes where she rests on his chest, and despite her feigned irritation, she feels her cheeks puff out into a soft, unbreakable grin. “Like you’d have lasted 3 rounds.”

“What happened to me being very talented?” She pouts, mustering whatever strength she has left to push herself up, swinging a leg back over and moving to stand, only for him to grasp back at her, pulling her until her back falls into the plush of the couch.

“Talented, Poppy, not super human,” he chuckles, standing from the cushions and tucking himself back into his briefs. “I’ve got her.”

“It’s probably wind, I changed and fed her before she went down.”

He presses one last kiss to Poppy’s head before heavy feet carry him down the hall toward their bedroom, where their daughter’s crib is temporarily positioned until she starts to sleep a little further through the night. He doesn’t bother flicking the light on as he enters, able to follow his muscle memory straight over to where she is without tripping over his own feet, and he lifts her as soon as he can, cooing at her as she cries into his chest.

“I’ve got you, Chäferli,” he mutters as he rocks her gently, large hand completely encompassing where he can feel her back through her sleeping bag. “Daddy’s here,”

He reaches over to shut off the monitor before he ambles over to his and Poppy’s bed, sitting with his daughter still clutched to his chest, little hiccups coming out as his hand tries to work up her wind. 

“Got yourself all worked up, huh?” He asks, so deep into his routine of talking to her about anything and everything that he no longer second guesses it. “My little bug, you’re okay.”

It takes a good few minutes to calm her down, to the point that Nico thinks she might even be hungry and he’ll have to call Poppy in, wiggling a finger between her lips to see if she latches on, but he continues to pat and rub at her back until she burps, and her cries turn into little coos, that turn into soft pants with wide, sparkling eyes staring up at him in wonder. 

He looks down at her in the same way, dark eyes flitting across her every feature. Across the soft but thick head of hair, the crazy long eyelashes, the puffy lips and the little button nose. 

She looks so much like Poppy that he feels his chest ache every time he looks at her - but it’s a good kind of ache, a longing and content kind of ache, that only aches to remind him of everything he stands to lose if he doesn’t work hard enough to keep it.

“Gromi told me you were charming everybody at daddy’s work,” he tells her with a soft smile, the pad of his finger pressing at the tip of her nose. “Says she’s gonna have to show you off around the city on her own tomorrow.”

Tiny fingers reach up to clasp around his, holding on and clutching with a grip he’s sure wasn’t so firm that morning when he had said his goodbyes. 

“Careful, bug,” he tells her, “You hold Papi’s hand too long and he won’t let you go.”

Wide eyes gleam back at him, and he watches in awe as they start to crinkle in the corners. 

He becomes all too aware of the hammering of his heart, and lays her beside him on the bed in fears that the echoing thud of it beating against his chest might disturb her. He curls up beside her, making sure she’s flat as he gets himself comfortable, and just lays there for a good few minutes, watching her as she watches him.

There isn’t a feeling in the world that compares to this, he thinks. He could score a hundred hat-tricks, have a million people chanting his name, and it won’t come close to how adored he feels in this moment, how proud he feels to have played any part in making a little human so perfect and beautiful.

He leans forward, kissing softly at her puffy cheek, careful not to press too hard that she feels the scratch of his moustache, and he relishes the little squeal of what he hopes is delight she gives in return. 

Poppy gives it 20 minutes before she decides to venture through to their bedroom, having cleaned up and busied herself sterilising bottles so they’re ready for Katja to come pick up in the morning. It’s been a rare occurrence lately that Nico has had his one-on-one time with their daughter, him being so busy with training and their trip to Florida - and he wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t fess up to the ways in which it gets him down, but she knows he feels like he’s missing a lot. 

She changes so much day to day - discovers so much about the world around her - and as much as Poppy tries to save things for him to see on his own, tries to find the balance between sharing the little moments she gets with him and letting him experience them for himself, she knows there’s nothing she can do to keep that nagging voice at bay.

He’s always been that way, unable to completely silence the thoughts that tell him no matter what he does, it isn’t enough. 

He’d even done it tonight - his first career hat-trick, him being the first Swiss-born player to score a natural hat-trick, a stadium filled with fans chanting his name, dominating a team the Devils hadn’t beat at home in close to 10 years - and it hadn’t been his best performance. 

She would gladly spend the rest of her life convincing him he’s good enough, she thinks. 

Her and their little Bug being the ones who get to welcome him home after a night like tonight? She doesn’t know what she did in a past life to get the Gods on her side like this, but she’d do it again a thousand times over.

As her feet pad softly down the hall toward their room, she listens out for the soft voice she usually has the pleasure of eavesdropping on when she thinks he doesn’t know she’s hovering on the other side of the door. A soft voice that tells their little girl exaggerated stories from his day about her uncles, about his games, about whatever he got up to while he was away and what he brought back for her from his travels. But this time, it’s quiet - the peaceful kind of quiet that wraps around her like a blanket, tranquil and warming as she pushes the door open and steps into the room.

Nico is curled up on his side of the bed, on top of the covers, and his arm is draped gently over their daughter’s sleeping bag, their faces inches apart as soft snores fall from their parted lips. She inches closer as quiet as she can manage, leaning over them and taking in their similar profiles - the gentle slope of their mirrored noses, dark lashes framing closed eyes that are turning darker to match her daddy’s day by day.

If anyone had told the Poppy of last November that this is where she would be now - that this is where she’d be with Nico - she never in a million years would have believed it. 

He has transformed her life in such little time that she can barely remember the before. Can barely remember a night she fell asleep in any other bed, by any other side, or woke up to anyone else. Can barely remember feeling anything close to this kind of happiness, this kind of content.

It’s like he’s introduced her to a whole new level of feelings. Ones she struggles to describe, like there’s no word in the English language that could possibly convey what he means to her.

Maybe his language has a word for it. Something that she’s never heard before, but just sounds right. Like she knew it somewhere much deeper than her brain allowed her access. She’ll have to ask him, tomorrow - when they finally have a morning to themselves and she can work up the energy to crawl out from under the sheets with him.

A part of her wishes she could take a snapshot of this moment - could send it back in time to the Poppy who never thought this kind of life would ever find her. The Poppy who was drifting, coasting, floating, afraid of landing on her own two feet and having to drag them for the rest of time through unfamiliar territories. The Poppy who pushed down her ever expanding adoration for the man currently cuddled up to their entire life in the bed they share, who convinced herself he could never possibly feel the same way, and wasted years of her life when she could have had this.

But another part of her thinks, what’s the point?

She has him, now. 

She’ll have him forever.

She allows herself to watch for a minute as they take deep breaths in sync, all the post-game tension in Nico’s body long melted away, before she quietly shuffles over to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed. 

She manages to make her way back over in the dark without stumbling, by some miracle, and reaches over to pick her baby girl up without interrupting her sleep, standing beside her crib and rocking her a little just to make sure she’s still fully drifted off - relishing the feeling of soft puffs of air falling into her neck as she cradles her.

Nico must wake at the loss of contact, instincts kicking in immediately when he can no longer feel the little body that had been resting under his protective arm, and when Poppy looks back over, she can see the reflective glint in his eyes as he watches her - soft and adoring and tooth-achingly sweet. 

Instead of putting her down, she bounces gently on her feet back over to Nico’s side of the bed, sitting beside him as he shuffles up, and the two of them just watch their daughter as she sleeps. 

For all the times they have been warned that this bliss is temporary, that it’s just a phase, Poppy can’t see it ending for as long as Nico looks at her like this. Like he has the entire world sat in front of him. 

“She was smiling at me before,” he whispers as he repositions himself, legs spread so that Poppy can sit between them. “Was trying to get her to calm down, and she was just looking straight at me with those big sparkly eyes and she smiled right at me.”

“She was doing it a little when we got home, earlier.” Poppy whispers back, hoping he doesn’t mind her raining on his parade a little to tell this story, “We just caught your interview on TV after the game, and there was this close up of you, and she smiled so big, Nico. She never smiles like that for anybody.”

“That’s ‘cause you snitch on her and tell everyone it’s gas.”

“I don’t want anyone else thinking they’re special.”

“But I am?” He asks, reaching to swipe the back of his finger softly against her cheek, the soft moonlight sifting into the room reflecting off of the ring on his finger, the quick glimmer enough to catch Poppy’s eye, to distract her so much that she can only hum in response, lips curving into a tender smile. 

“Yeah,” she breathes, the tranquility of the room a stark contrast to the way her heart erupts into thunderous applause for him - akin to that of the stadium full of fans earlier that night. Thousands of voices chanting his name, singing his praises, cheering him on for all the glory he brought to their night. He brings that to Poppy, tenfold, every day. “You’re really special.”

He leans over their sleeping daughter to press a loving kiss to Poppy’s lips, careful not to disturb the little angel between them, and Poppy kisses him straight back, fervent but fleeting.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” she mutters into his mouth, careful not to invest too much of herself into another moment they’ll swiftly get interrupted from. 

“You gonna show me in the morning?” He mumbles back, their lips still touching, noses pressed together, his hand still cradling her face. She nods, and he feels her cheeks round into his palm. “Gonna give me that hatty you promised?”

“Gonna give you whatever you want.”

“Another baby, Frau?”

She scoffs, swallowing down the fizzing feeling at the back of her throat the nickname. 

“Ask me again after your next hat-trick.” 

[strnilolover]

.✦ ── She’s Not Mine, She’s Not You ── ✦.

♡ Prince!Matt x Maid Reader au

⚠︎ Warmings : Arranged Marriage, Angst, Fluff, Forbidden Love/Relationship, Sneaking around and More.

♡ In which … prince matt and maid reader have been in a secret relationship for a little bit now. But, they’ve had to keep it behind closed doors because of his royal status and family. What happens when he’s placed in an arranged marriage he doesn’t even want to be in?

The air in your small quarters felt heavier than usual this evening. The flickering light of a single candle cast soft shadows on the stone walls as you meticulously folded linens. The familiar routine was meant to keep your mind occupied, but tonight, it couldn’t quiet the gnawing unease that had settled in your chest.

Matt had been distant all day. Normally, he’d find a reason to slip into whatever room you were working in, whether it was the grand library, the kitchens, or even the stables. He’d offer smiles and some heated actions that made your heart race. But today, he was nowhere to be found.

You told yourself it was nothing — that he was simply busy with royal duties. Yet the anxious pit in your stomach told a different story.

But then a sudden, forceful knock at your door startled you. Before you could answer, the door burst open. Matt stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His hair was messier than usual, his shirt slightly wrinkled as if he’d been running his hands through it all day. His expression was a storm of frustration and anguish, a stark contrast to the gentle, confident prince you knew.

“Matt?” you said cautiously, setting the linens aside and stepping toward him. “What’s going on?” you whisper, cautious not to upset him farther from what ever it was.

He didn’t answer right away, instead closing the door behind him with a heavy thud and locking it. His hands rested on the doorframe for a moment as he let out a slow, shaky breath. When he finally turned to face you, the fire in his eyes made your heart skip.

“They’ve done it,” he said bitterly. “They’ve made the decision for me.” his words were rough — it sounded like he just ate something that wasn’t good, whatever this was — wasn’t good.

Your brows furrowed slightly, unsure as to what he meant — but you had a feeling. “What decision?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you already knew you weren’t going to like the answer he was going to provide you.

He took a breath, his body visibly shaking. “My parents,” he began, his voice tight with anger. “They’ve arranged a marriage. To Lady Evelina.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. You felt the air leave your lungs as your knees wobbled slightly. You gripped the edge of your desk for support, your fingers digging into the wood.

You stood there, the words on the tip of your tongue — but it felt like gravel running along your mouth. “When?” you managed to ask, though your voice trembled.

“The engagement is to be announced at the ball in five months.” he spat, pacing the small room like a caged animal. “They didn’t even ask me. They didn’t give me a choice.” he voice raised, hands coming up to point at his chest as to get his words across more clearly.

You stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. The weight of it pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. “Lady Evelina…” you said softly, as if saying her name aloud would make it less real. “She’s… she’s beautiful. She’s noble. She’s—”

“She’s not you,” Matt interrupted, stopping mid-step to look at you. His gaze was fierce, almost desperate. “She’s not the one I love.” he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world — because it was, to you both.

“Matt…” You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. “You’re a prince. You were always going to marry someone like her. I knew that.” you said, voice cracking as you forced them through your teeth.

“No,” he said firmly, crossing the room to stand in front of you. “I told you from the beginning — I don’t care about any of that. Titles, politics, expectations — they mean nothing to me. You’re the only one who matters.”

His words, spoken with such conviction, brought tears to prick at the corner of your eyes. “And what about your kingdom?” you asked, your voice breaking even more. “What about your people? They expect you to marry someone who can strengthen alliances, someone who can stand beside you as a queen-“

“I don’t care what they expect!” he exclaimed, cutting you off as his frustration started to boil over. “I care about what I want. And I want you.”

“You think that’s enough?” you said, tears streaming down your cheeks now. “You think you can just tell your parents, your court, your entire kingdom that you love a maid, and they’ll just… accept it?” your chest twisted.

“I’ll make them accept it,” he said stubbornly, his jaw set. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Your hands trembled as you stepped away from him, needing distance to think clearly. “Matt, you’re being reckless,” you said, your voice barely steady. “You have a responsibility — to your family, to your kingdom. I can’t let you throw all of that away for me.”

He followed you, closing the space quickly between you with a few long strides. “You don’t get to decide that,” he said, his voice soft but firm. He reached for your hands, holding them gently despite the storm of emotions coursing through his veins. “This is my life. And I’m choosing you.” he whispered, gripping your hands tighter as he brought them up to place a small peck on your knuckles.

Your resolve crumbled under the weight of his words. A sob escaped your lips as you shook your head. “You shouldn’t have to choose,” you whispered. “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything for me.”

Matt shook his head, “Don’t you see?” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m not sacrificing anything. You’re the only thing that’s ever felt right. Without you, none of it matters.”

And you stared at him — your tears falling freely now. His love for you was undeniable, but so was the impossible weight of the world he lived in.

“And Lady Evelina?” you asked bitterly. “What about her? She’s being forced into this, too. She deserves someone who loves her.”

“She does,” Matt admitted, his shoulders slumping slightly. “But that person won’t be me. I’ll talk to her. I’ll tell her the truth.“ he says.

“And what if she wants you to be that person?” The question hung in the air like a dark cloud, the unspoken reality neither of you wanted to face.

Matt’s hands tightened around yours once more, his grip almost desperate. “Then I’ll find another way,” he said firmly. “I’ll talk to my parents, the council — whoever I need to. There has to be another way.” his voice was almost a plea now — the once storm was still there, but muffled now.

“Matt…” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Sometimes there isn’t.”

He pulled you into his arms suddenly, holding you so tightly it was as if he thought you might disappear. His chin rested on the top of your head, and you could feel his chest rising and falling against you.

“I won’t lose you,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the tears you could hear in it. “No matter what it takes, I won’t lose you.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into his embrace for what you feared might be the last time. “I love you, Matt,” you whispered. “But this… it’s bigger than us. You can’t fix this.”

“Yes, I can,” he said softly, but there was a crack in his voice that betrayed his own doubt. “I have to.”

For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. There was no Lady Evelina, no arranged marriage, no impossible expectations. There was only Matt, his arms around you, and the love you both felt but couldn’t hold onto.

But reality had a way of creeping back in. And as you pulled away, the weight of what lay ahead settled heavily in your chest.

“Promise me something,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Promise me you won’t lose yourself in this fight,” you whispered. “No matter what happens, no matter what you have to do — don’t lose the part of you that I fell in love with.”

He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “I won’t,” he said softly, his voice steady now. “But I can’t promise that I won’t fight for you. Because I will. Until my last breath.”

© strnilolover

a/n : holy shit balls y’all. i have been thinking about this for so long and now i have finally, FINALLY, written the first part. i’m not sure how many parts there will be after this or what direction it’ll go in, i’m just building as i go. BUT — i hope you all enjoy this first part 😛

[fayesia]

Day 7 - Breeding

"The Realms Desire" - uncle!Daemon x niece!reader

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ׂ🦢 𓈒ೀ

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings - Targcest!, breeding kink obv, Aemondxreader mentioned, cunnilingus, p in v, dirty talk, nipple play?, brief slut shaming, spit play

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc - 2.1k

The final family supper ended in uproar, as the children were sent to their respectful chambers, the remaining adults silently looked at one another. Letting out a sharp breath Alicent concluded the dinner.

"Well, I believe we should all take our rest, it has been quite an...eventful night."

Agreeing with her, the dining hall cleared out, and you took the long winding walk through the silent hallways back to your room. As you neared the corner to your apartments door, a hand reached out harshly, tugging you against their lean figure. Letting out a yelp, you panicked before realising it was Aemond, his eyes wide because of the loud noise you made.

"Aemond, what is the manner of this? You should be in your room"

"Please. I need you. Just one more time, one last time"

It wasn't a secret to the guards and maids who patrolled the halls and entered your room that Prince Aemond would spend some nights with you. The manner, however, was merely for comfort, and although clothes were sparsely worn, blasphemy never fully occurred. He would simply explore and imagine while you gently stroked the soft gleaming white hair the two of you shared.

"Not tonight, Aemond. Tensions have already risen thanks to your rash wording, I think it's best not to stir the pot anymore."

His grip, however, didn't loosen. Your reprimanding words and denial hurt the Prince, someone who was born with a golden spoon in their mouth. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but upon the sound of nearing footsteps, he stepped away and out of the shadows, sauntering off in the opposite direction.

You caught your breath as thoughts swirled in your mind. Pushing open the door, you turned to close it before a voice called out to you.

"Princess, wait"

Before you could reply, your uncles broad frame walked in, cornering you against the now shut door.

"What was Aemond doing here, with you, I recall the children being sent to bed"

Stunned at the confrontational question you took a while to reply.

"Yes...no..he was-Aemond was just..."

Your sentence faltered, unable to answer as your head hung low to not look Daemon in the eyes.

"Was he listing after you again? Is that it? Did he want to fuck you tonight. After all the discord he has caused."

"What? No. No, of course not, don't be ridiculous-"

"Ridiculous? Me asking about the man who enters your room to bed you every night is ridiculous?"

"He doesn't bed me."

"Of course he doesn't. Because he sees all of you and simply does nothing, is that it?"

His sarcastic tone did not go unoticed, angering you more as he spoke down to you as if you were still a mere child.

"Yes! Uncle he does nothing. Please believe me."

"How can I believe you, the evidence is rather contradictory of what my ears are hearing and my eyes see."

"Why should it bother you? You have your wife, my sister. My behaviours should be of no business to you. Whether I bed him or not is not a matter of your concern, uncle."

Stepping sidewards to evade his presence, Daemon moves quickly, slamming you against the door and knocking the breath from you.

"Do you like that he fucks you princess, to spend every night getting filled with his seed? Is that all you want to be. A whore for a disfigured man."

Casting your eyes from the floor to your uncles face, you see the rage he holds.

"Can barely call him a man, though can I. You don't even know what it's like to take the cock of a real man"

Leaning closer, his hands travelled from your shoulders to your waist.

"Do you want to know what it's like, princess?"

He hips rubbed against you, both strong arms from years of training and fighting pulled you closer, as you felt his hard bulge beneath his breaches. You let out a whimper, an internal battle being fought about his advances.

"We mustn't. We can not." Your cheeks flushed as heat coursed through your entire body. Your words were the opposite of your movements, chest to chest with your uncle, the thin material of your gown rubbed against your sensitive nipples. The sight of them pebbling added with the sensation had you growing wetter, shifting your thighs against each other in an effort to stop the reaction you had to Daemon.

An action not gone unoticed by him.

"We can though. No one has to know. I can teach you how a proper man fucks his whores."

Throwing all rash thoughts out the window you meekly nodded while your uncle steered you towards your bed. Laying you on your back Daemon climbed over, leaning down to connect lips in an unforgiving kiss, you grew dizzy at the sheer force while his tongue explored your mouth. His spit mixed with your own as his tongue traced across your lips before dragging down your chin to your neck, where kisses were places against your soft skin.

You lifted off the bed, soft moans released from your mouth, in hopes to be as close with Daemon as humanely possible. His hands lifted you upwards to him until you were comfortably straddling his lap. The expertise he had with woman coming to light as he was quick and swift to untie the laces of your dress as it fell from your shoulders. Leaving you in nothing but your smallclothes, which was already soaked in your own desire.

With an act of confidence you leaned forward to connect your lips to his once more, Daemon used this time to clumsily undress while trying to keep you pleased with his mouth. When you disconnected, your eyes wavered on the many battle scars that marred the Princes skin, from his neck to his back, you gently lifted a finger to trace the scarred flesh.

Daemon used this opportunity to explore you himself. His large hands encased your breasts that fit comfortably in his palms. Rubbing across your pebbled nipples, he smirked, squeezing the flesh, noticing the subtle rotation of your hips against his groin.

"Does my princess enjoy this?"

Unable to get the words out you just nodded.

"Is this what you and Aemond do?"

The tone in his voice was one of mock and jealousy, and you thought it best not to reply with your usual sarcastic tone. For this was not a moment you wanted to end because you simply couldn't hold your tongue.

Laying you back down, Daemon travelled down your body, licking your nipples as he took turns to evenly stimulate both with his tongue. The spit felt sticky and made your nipple harder once they were released from the Princes' warm mouth. His tongue continued its journey downwards, his mouth encasing your cunt over your damp smallclothes.

"Or is this what he does to you?"

Licking more stripes across the fabric, it soon grew transparent with the mixture of both his spit and your liquids. Shaking your head, you denied such actions every occurring.

"Shame. The boy is missing out. Never tasted a sweter cunt. That of a virtuous princess."

His strong hands ripped the smallclothes from your thighs as they were roughly tossed somewhere across your room. Inhaling sharply, you felt Daemons mouth back on your sensitive flesh, except this time there was nothing in between, his tongue flicking through your crevices. Your hands grabbed at his hair, pushing him closer to your centre while he worked ferociously in an effort to make you climax. Looking down at him, your eyes met his hooded ones, the purple of both your eyes were darkened by the lust shared for one another.

Holding your legs open, his grip on your thighs grew stronger as you came. His name flowed off your tongue like a prayer, and your moans could easily be heard by the guards standing outside in the hallway. Your hips bucked into his face as your body and mind fought a battle of whether to run from the pleasure or take more.

Daemon released your shaking thighs, climbing up your body with a smirk across his wet face covered with your release. His kissed you again, this time with the sole purpose of sharing the taste of your release between both of you. The idea was made obvious as he gathered his spit and spat in your own mouth.

The liquid made up of mostly your own release, the messy transaction dripped down your chin, but Daemon gathered it with his thumb, pushing it back into your mouth for you to swallow.

Sucking his thumb, you looked at Daemon with the sweetest eyes in the realm. For if your sister was the realms delight than in this moment, he concluded that you were truly the realms desire.

His cock was enough to prove that, it's much gossiped about size was bobbing against your thigh and becoming harder to ignore as precum dripped from it and marked your skin.

"Please, Daemon, I want you, need you to fill me"

"Is that what you want sweet niece, to be fucked like a whore, to feel your uncle fill you with his seed"

Nodding your head, you went limp as Daemon positioned you on all fours. A pillow under your stomach as he pushed you back into a deep arch, his mouth gently kissing down your spine. Entering you in one quick thrust you moaned into the sheets, immediately feeling stuffed with the thick girth of your uncles cock.

"Gods, you feel so good."

"The gods are not the one filling you, sweet thing. It is my name you should be calling out to."

Daemons thrust sped up as your unwavering moans spurred him on. His hands grabbed the flesh of your hips to guide your cunt up and down his cock as they travelled up to grab your breasts. His fingers squeezing your nipple as the flesh of his thighs loudly slapped against the flesh of your ass. Finally one of his hands moved to wrap around your neck while the other around your waist lifted you to lean against his chest.

The new position allowed his cock to enter you at a deeper angle than before. Your eyes could barely stay open as they rolled back in pure pleasure as your mouth fell open with no noise escaping.

"Do you enjoy this? Being fucked by your uncle. To know your uncles seed will soon fill you up so you can carry his babe."

Whining out you couldn't think hard enough to reply, his cock had fucked you dumb. Turning your head the look you gave him was enough to answer his question, his mouth released a puff of hot air against your neck as he laughed.

"To bad that boy will never fuck you like this, ruined you for anyone else haven't I sweet niece, no one else will fuck this cunt better than your dear uncle."

Absentmindedly, you nodded, almost letting out a yelp of shock when Daemons fingers reached down to rub at your bundle of nerves.

He makes you squirm as he drills his cock harder up into you, while circling his fingers faster, drawing you over the edge. Clawing his arm that's wrapped around your waist, your throughs of pleasure lead you to press deep cresent into his skin, hard enough to draw blood. Breathing heavily against your neck he fully sits you on top of his cock as his climax nears.

"Let me fill you niece. So you can grow my babe in you and mother my child, strengthen our family line, and grace our children with your beauty."

Dazed and exhausted from the best climax you had ever had, you stroked Daemons hair in almost the same way you do with Aemond. As wrong as it was, you found it amusing that the two men with so much tension between them had the same liking to certain treatments in bed.

"Please uncle..cum inside me...fill me with your seed, please Daemon.

The sound of his name whispered from your lips and the taboo of an uncle breeding his niece, pushed him to his breaking point, letting out a near animalistic groans as his cock pumped his cum into you. The warm liquid splashed against your walls and was sure to fill your womb with how deep he was inside you.

Gently kissing his forhead you stroked your uncles hair, letting him catch his breath. It was a mutually agreement to not move you off his cock, for the Princes seed must go to waste.

"So good...such a good girl for me."

His words brought a warm feeling of pride to spread inside your chest as you curled in his lap, drifting into a restful sleep as he rocked you in his arms like he did when you were young.

Kinktober Masterlist

[moosesarecute]

Song of the Wind part 3

Since so many people (aka two 😅) asked, here is a third and final part

Part 2

Masterlist

Azriel was pacing back and forth in the entrance of the Town House. His house.

He still wasn’t used to being the owner of a house. And he still sometimes flew to the House of Wind instead of here.

It had been four months since his first dinner with your family. Four months since your mother and brother accepted his request to court you.

And it had been the best four months of his life, even though he felt like he was playing a part.

He used all his experience as a spy to pretend that he knew what he was doing as he gave flowers to your mother, talked politics with your brother and carefully talked about everything and nothing with you.

Only in his letters to you could he be his embarrassing self.

You would send back and forth letters all the time. You wrote about your daily life and ambitions, he wrote about his personal life and every thing else that he wanted to tell you.

He wished to tell you everything, he realized.

He had been pacing for the better part of an hour. Thinking about all he had planned to do these two days you were going to come to Velaris.

You had been there before, of course you had. You and your family had visited twice before.

That’s when he realized your family excepted him to own a house and Rhys gifted him the Town House. Azriel tried to refuse, but soon Feyre and Elain had started to decorate, and he had no other choice. He had really started to love the house.

This time, you were arriving alone. No chaperone. And Azriel felt like the pressure of all courts had been put on his shoulders.

If he messed up now, all his chances were gone. This was it.

A knock on his door, made his shadows stop clinging to him and he moved to the door. He straightened his back and took a deep, but quiet breath, before he opened the door.

Outside stood both you and your brother, Mateo. His eyes immediately met yours and all worry he had disappeared.

“Hello,” you said with your bright voice.

“Hi,” he answered dreamily, before he realized you were waiting for an invitation to come in. “It’s good to see you, please come in.”

You gave your brother a small hug and Mateo gave Azriel a look that almost screamed “don’t you dare mess this up”. Azriel gave a grave nod in return.

You walked into the house and Azriel showed you to your room. You would have to sleep in separate rooms, of course.

“This will be the best weekend ever,” you said as the two of you started making lunch.

The weekend was packed. Azriel had only planned a few things to do, so that you would choose the rest.

You ended up dragging him along to one of Feyre’s painting classes, you went on walks through the Raindow and went to every single cute cafe you could find.

In the evening, the two of you went on a dinner date and the day after you had joined his family for family dinner.

Smiles were big on both faces throughout the entire days.

Azriel held the door open for you as you walked out of the River House.

“I have one more thing I wished we could do,” you said.

“Anything,” he responded as he closed the door behind him.

“I was wondering if we could go flying again,” you asked him with a quiet voice.

He almost froze. Of course he wanted to fly with you. Flying was his favorite thing ever. Nothing had ever given him as much peace.

But that would mean holding you. Carrying you in his arms as he flew above Velaris seemed like a dream, but was he allowed to?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that,” you said before he could answer.

“No, no, it’s okay! I really want to fly with you, but I would have to carry you. Is that okay?”

He felt a stupid blush reaching his face. He had flown multiple women before, but the thought of having you so close made him flustered.

“I would be okay with that.”

When he picked you up and felt the warmth of your body against his he thought he was going to lose all control.

It felt so right holding you against him. He absolutely loved it.

Throughout the four months of courting he had been longing for the day he could fly with you again. Not in a life-death situation, but for fun.

“Ready?”

You nodded and he took off.

The scream that left your mouth was a lot quieter than last time and was soon changed with laughter.

He flew them far above the ground and while you were amazed by the lights from the city, he was amazed by your bright eyes and the feeling of holding you.

It was the most amazing thing he could ever have dreamed of.

“This is amazing,” you said and turned to look at him. “Thank you, love.”

The pet name made his knees weak and he was so happy he wasn’t currently standing on them. He would definitely fall.

“No problem at all,” he answered as he got lost in your eyes.

After a while, he flew you down to the Town House.

Being from Summer meant being used to a warmer temperature than what it was in Velaris, so he made sure you felt warm under a blanket.

The night disappeared into day, but neither of you noticed. The entire house was filled by laughter and love.

The mating bond was humming in both chests. Humming stronger than ever before.

“I love you,” you whispered to him.

“I love you too.”

Relief was the feeling that spread through his body. Both from you and from him. The second feeling was pure happiness.

His shadows were swirling around you, like they had done the entire weekend. Now, they became a little braver and clung closer to you in a protective, but also comforting manner.

Azriel half expected you to get scared from them, but you only leaned further towards them, and therefore also towards Azriel.

His shadows on the other side of his body started to push him towards you and soon you were touching. He lifted his hand and you did the same, interlocking fingers.

Both of you relaxed completely against each other.

You stayed in the same position until a knock was heard and Azriel knew that your brother had arrived.

Disappointment filled his heart, but then it was gone again.

It was your disappointment he realized. He was about to ask if you were okay, when you sat up, kissed his cheek and made your way to the door.

The kiss made his shadows go crazy, but he hoped you didn’t notice.

It was a simple goodbye and then, you went back to the Summer Court.

Azriel had been sosial the entire weekend, but he didn’t feel as tired he usually would. It only felt empty. The house was too big without you in it.

So he decided to make his way to the River House.

You had expected him to do it when you made food the first day.

Or when you ate dinner at the restaurant.

Or when you walked through the rainbow.

Or when he flew you around and gazed at you like you were a goddess to his god.

You at least expected him to do it when you stayed up talking the entire night. Leaning into each other and feeling the warmth and smell from his body.

But then he didn’t.

Your brother arrived and winnowed you home and it only took one hug for you to break down.

He didn’t want you.

He said he loved you, but he still didn’t want to marry you.

Breathing became harder and harder. You weren’t good enough for your own mate.

Your brother carefully moved you from his arms into your mother’s.

You could almost smell his anger, but you were too deep into crying to realize what he was going to do.

That was until he winnowed away.

“How did it go?” Nesta asked as soon as he walked into the River House.

Most of his family was still there after the dinner last night. Being either too tired or too drunk to go home.

“It went fine, I think,” he answered.

All his family was looking hopeful at him. They wanted details.

“We talked the entire night and her brother picked her up not long ago.”

“We really like her,” Rhys said and it made Azriel smile. “She seems right for you. I’ve never seen you smile like this before.”

He nodded at his brother. He really did love you. It was an incredible feeling knowing that you loved him back.

“What’s going on?” Amren asked.

She and Varian had been gone for the last two weeks. They had therefore no idea that you had been visiting.

“Y/N was here this entire weekend,” Feyre said and she continued with a blink in her eye. “Without a chaperone.”

Amren only snorted, but Varian’s eyes grew double the size. Azriel felt his smile fall.

“What?” He asked.

“Did you-,” Varian started speaking, but was cut of by a door closing.

In walked Cassian and to Azriel’s horror, Mateo.

“Look who I found,” Cassian said.

Azriel immediately got worried. Did something happen to you? Were you hurt? Didn’t they get home properly?

Azriel stood up and was about to voice his concerns, when Mateo’s fist met his nose.

Mateo wasn’t the tallest or strongest fae, but he knew how to punch. Azriel both felt and heard his nose break.

He realized he must have messed something up for Mateo, who had become his friend, so want to hurt him so badly.

So he let Mateo do what he needed.

In the end he had a broken nose, a black eye and he was drenched in water…twice.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I let you get close to my sister even though you messed up about everything in your first dinner with us and then you play her like that? Don’t you own any shame? She’s been the most patient. She’s been urging me to let her see you and then you prove all the bad accusations about Illyrians right?”

In the end, Rhys pulled Mateo off him.

“I’m sure it’s a good explanation for all this. Azriel gave us the impression that the weekend went quite well,” he said and tried to calm Mateo.

“Well? Well? How can it go well when he doesn’t have any plans on attaching himself.”

Azriel’s eyes grew wide. What? Of course he was planning on attaching himself to you. He wanted nothing more in the entire world to call you his.

A small attempt on clearing a throat was heard in the corner of the room. Azriel met Varian’s eyes before the male no longer dared to look at him.

“I might have forgotten to mention the part about how a unchaperoned visit is the same as telling someone to propose.”

Azriel’s mouth flew open.

You had excepted him to propose. You had waited patiently the entire weekend for him to say he wanted to marry you and then he hadn’t.

He had to hold back his shadows to prevent them from killing Varian, but he let them punch him to the ground.

“I didn’t know,” he almost pleaded to your brother. “I swear, I didn’t know. Of course I want to marry her, she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

A ring!

He needs a ring.

But it was Sunday and most of the shops were closed.

He was about to ask Rhys for one when his shadows lifted his hand and dropped a ring-box into it.

He opened it and was met with the most beautiful ring he had ever seen. It screamed you. It would look amazing on your cute hand.

“You have a ring ready?” Mateo asked. He seemed to suddenly realize that Azriel was serious.

Azriel almost told the truth about his shadows buying a ring behind his back, but then his shadows forced his head into a nod.

“May I please propose to your sister?” He asked hopefully.

Mateo gave him just a stern nod and Azriel was on his way.

He winnowed and flew and winnowed until he stood outside your home.

He didn’t knock, but just opened the door and left it open. Your mother was almost burning with anger as she saw him.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he said. “I don’t have time to explain, I need to propose to your daughter.”

His shadows told him where in the house you were and he immediately ran to your room.

He almost ripped open the door and stormed inn.

You were about to go into bed, but stopped as you saw him.

His heart broke at the sight of your bright eyes that were now red from crying. You were crying the first time you met, but now that the tears was because of him it was ten thousand times worse. He wanted to throw up.

He didn’t let you speak as he walked up to you, went down on one knee and opened the ring-box.

“Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of Dana, sister of Mateo and owner of my heart. I’m the stupidest male alive for not realizing what your visit this weekend meant. I promise you, I didn’t know, but it doesn’t matter. I messed up. And I promise to try to mess up less in the future, but please, please, please, will you marry me?”

“Ready?” Your brother asked you.

You leaned into a hug and he kissed your forehead.

“It’s not too late to back away,” he continued and you only laughed.

“I’m sure I made the right decision, even though you’re still mad,” you answered with a bright smile.

He took your hand, tilted your flower-crown a little to the left and started walking with you.

The weather was perfect. Not too warm, but a blue shy and a bit of a wind.

The garden you had chosen to get married in was the most beautiful and it felt so right. With a mix of pink, blue and green plants as decor.

Azriel cried as he saw you. He stood out in his black suit, but you at least got him a white flower to have in his hair. He wore it proudly.

The ceremony was beautiful. Your vows were a mix of Night Court and Summer Court traditions. Your first kiss was the most amazing kiss ever and you soon became addicted to kissing.

Your entire family and his entire family were together for the party afterwards.

It was the most beautiful day ever.

“I can’t believe we finally got married,” he said and kissed you on the mouth.

“You proposed last month, love. You made it seem like you’ve waited forever.”

“I have,” he said. “540 years to be exact.”

You laughed at your cheesy mate.

Rhysand winnowed you both to the Night Court. The Town House was now also your home.

What Azriel didn’t know was that you had, with the help of Feyre and Nesta, placed a small cake that you had made on the kitchen table of the Town House.

Azriel ended up eating that cake quite quickly when he realized what it meant.

And you know the rest.

Extra:

“Can you at least give me a two meter radius?” Cassian asked the guards that were currently surrounding him.

“No, we have orders from the High Lord,” one of them answered.

It had taken Rhys two weeks of almost begging Tarquin to let Cassian come to Azriel and Y/N’s wedding. And he was allowed to come, but he was constantly watched by at least three guards.

“Enjoying yourself, Cass?” Rhys asked him. He stood and talked with both Azriel and you, but Cassian wasn’t allowed. It was a too crowded area for the guards to have complete control.

Azriel and Rhys broke out in laughter at Cassian’s annoyed face. You, however, walked up to your new brother in law with a small glass of champagne.

Cassian was about to take the glass when one of the guards slapped his hand away.

“No alcohol!” He said.

Cassian had to hold back from stumping his foot like a toddler.

“You break one building,” he muttered and his words were answered with laughter.

@historygeekqueen @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Divider by @cafekitsune

[concreteburialplot]

Friendsgiving

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Masterlist: Here | Crossposted: ao3 | Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: You and your best friends decide to have Friendsgiving in their parent’s lake cabin. When one friend embarrassingly reveals a secret you’ve been keeping, Jake offers to help :)

Warnings; alcohol, weed, college au, porn w a little plot, virginity loss, oral (m & f receiving), sexual activities outdoors, unprotected sex, creampie, kinda cliché, kinda fluffy, reader has a nickname, 18+ MDNI

A/N; my first jake fic and first ever thanksgiving fic, hope you enjoy 🩷

Every year your best friend Josh would gather you and his brothers, along with any close friends or partners for a Thanksgiving bonfire. It had begun as a rebellious excuse to swipe some booze, get drunk, and escape suffocating family obligations. But by this third year in college, Josh and his brothers had finally convinced their family to let them host Friendsgiving at the family cabin. You were of course grateful for this tradition, especially since your family was…not your favorite to be around – but the night and the beer were slowly catching up to you, starting to fill your limbs with a slight numbing feeling. True to form, Josh was determined to wring every last drop of energy from the night, his boisterous voice and endless antics keeping the group alive.

The once eventful night dulled down into another Friendsgiving tradition Josh had concocted. This entailed gathering everyone – usually at their drunkest –  to share one thing you were grateful for and one thing you want to let go of. What started as a cheesy joke had somehow evolved into a yearly ritual, with Josh waxing poetry about offering up your ambitions to the gods or some equally absurd sentiment.

Warmth snaked up your arms as you watched the bonfire flames flicker and sway, their hypnotic dance casting fleeting shadows across your face. Your eyes drifted over to your other best friend and Josh’s twin, Jake. He wore a flannel that was your exact favorite shade of red over some black band tee, paired with a dark multicolored knitted beanie. The edges of your lips curled into a subtle smile at the way the beanie was so lopsided on his head.

His attention was fixed on the acoustic guitar resting in his lap as his fingers idly plucked out a Fleetwood Mac tune. The gentle strumming mingled with the crackling fire, until a sharp pop from the flames broke the rhythm. Jake’s head lifted, his eyes moving to the burning flame before shifting to meet yours which were already on him.

The small grin that spread across his face made your cheeks flush with heat, an involuntary response that you desperately hoped could be blamed on the chilly air. You quickly looked away, silently thankful that the cold had already painted your cheeks rosy.

“Your turn, Y/N.” You heard a nasaly voice call from across the circle around the fire. Your gaze landed on the dark-haired girl perched comfortably on your friend Danny’s lap. Lorna. She was a coworker from the on-campus pizza shop where you both worked, and unfortunately for you, the girl Danny had decided to fall for.

Lorna was, without a doubt, one of the most irritating people you’d ever met. Still, spending so much time together at work had somehow turned her into one of your closest female friends since you only really had the boys. To her credit, she’d mellowed out a bit over time—just enough to make her tolerable. Tonight, however, the slur in her voice and the glazed look in her eyes made it clear she was far past her limit.

You sighed because you’d been dreading this question all night, you had a list of things to be thankful for but you couldn’t think of a single thing to let go of and you knew Josh wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Uh, well.” You cleared your throat. “I’m thankful for this fantastic cabin.” Your arm flung outward towards the house behind you. “And I’m thankful for surviving midterms.”

“…And?” Josh predictably pressed.

“Oh, I don’t really have anything to let go of this year.” You chuckled nervously waving the notion away.

“Oh, come on, Star, if I have to answer, so do you,” Sam, the youngest brother, protested from beside Danny, using your nickname as he lazily held a thick blunt between his fingers.

“Yeah, there’s gotta be something you wanna get rid of.” Josh pushed.

Your eyes bounced across everyone surrounding the bonfire, each one with urging faces casted in a fiery glow. It was almost overwhelming, daunting – suffocating. Suddenly, you felt backed into a corner you never wanted to be in. It wasn’t the simple question that intimidated you, it was the answer. One you didn’t want to share, at least not truthfully.

But with the alcohol buzzing in your veins and the unspoken demand hanging thick in the air, you finally caved. “Okay, fine,” you exhaled, the words carrying a mix of resignation and defiance. “I want to get rid of… something. Something very personal.” You deliberately stopped short, letting the finality of your tone tell them that was all they were getting.

At least, that was your plan—until a drunken cackle erupted from your left.

“Ha!” Lorna slurred, her laughter loud and unabashed. “Your virginity!”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at her drunken outburst, your cheeks blazing hot as the embarrassment spread down to the tips of your fingers. The heat intensified when you caught Jake’s gaze out of the corner of your eye, his attention fixed squarely on you. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but the suffocating silence that had fallen over the group—save for Lorna absentmindedly cackling.

One late night after work, over a few too many drinks, Lorna had somehow pried your biggest secret out of you. Well, second biggest secret. You just never imagined she’d announce it in front of your closest friends. Your silence was also telling, confirming what she said was true.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Josh spoke up, “Oh, sex is overrated anyway! Jake your next.” He announced swiftly.

It was clear he was trying to help, to move past the awkwardness of the moment, but your throat felt constricted, like it was lined with barbed wire, and your eyes stung with the threat of tears. Before Jake could respond to Josh, you shot to your feet, the sudden movement making your heart race. “I have to go.”

Without waiting for a reaction, you weaved your way out of the circle, your steps quick and unsteady as you headed in the opposite direction, away from the back porch.

Jake’s frustrated scoff reached your ears as you walked, and when you glanced back, you saw him glaring at Lorna and Danny. With a sharp exhale, he gently set his guitar aside before rising from his chair to follow.

But you didn’t care. You couldn’t. The emotions swirled inside you—embarrassment, frustration, confusion—but all you could do was keep walking, heading toward the dark expanse of the forest that bordered the icy lake. Only as you neared the trees did it hit you how pointless it was to walk deeper into the cold, how ridiculous it would look if you turned back now. But the thought of being alone, even in the freezing silence of the woods, felt like the only thing that made sense. And that’s all you wanted right now, to be alone.

“Star!” Jake’s voice called after you, and you nearly flinched at the sound of it. He was the last person you wanted to talk to after everything that had just happened.

“Leave me alone, Jake. I’m fine,” you croaked, but the weakness in your voice betrayed you, revealing just how vulnerable you were.

“You’re obviously not fine,” he shot back, his footsteps persistent as he followed you toward the tree line.

“Just go back! Go have fun,” you snapped, swiping at a tear that had slipped down your cheek as you quickened your pace, weaving around a nearby tree.

"I’m not going to have fun while you’re out here, lost in the forest." His voice softened, but you could hear the frustration beneath it. "Just come back with me." He kept pace with you, effortlessly moving through the trees as you tried to dodge him.

"Just leave me alone!"

"You can’t outrun me." His tone shifted, and in the next breath, he was right behind you, his presence a quiet force that made you stop in your tracks. "Just talk to me."

You rolled your eyes at his persistence. “There’s nothing to talk about, Jake.”

“C’mon, just head back with me. Everyone’s drunk no one will remember.” He rationalized.

But you’ll remember – you wanted to say.

If you had stayed calm, he’d probably be right, but you had to go and cause a whole scene. You were sure that everyone, especially Jake, would remember now.

“It’s not like it’s even true.” He continued, confidently.

You glanced up at his words, immediately regretting it as your eyes met his, even if only for a fleeting moment. You could’ve just gone with that, you could’ve lied, you could’ve brushed it off – if you hadn’t looked at him. He always had a talent for seeing right through your bullshit.

His brows and eyes softened at the realization, “…Is it true?”

You groaned, dropping your arms to your sides. Whenever strong emotions hit you, pacing was your automatic response, so that’s exactly what you did. The weight of the alcohol from the night crashed over you like a tidal wave, and suddenly, it was like a dam inside you broke wide open. Your secret was out and as humiliating as it was, it was also oddly freeing.

“Well, it’s not like I’m some prude,” you blurted out, your words tumbling out faster than you could think as you paced, the crunch of leaves beneath your sneakers punctuating each step. You turned to face him, your arms thrown wide. “It’s not like I don’t want to do those things, you know?”

“…Sure?” He responded slowly, his gaze following you with a mix of uncertainty and caution.

“I’m 22 years old of course I want to fuck!” You exclaimed and if you had been sober, you’d be mortified. “I mean I watch porn but that’s not enough. A little blue bullet and my fingers are not enough!”

Jake brown eyes widened at your confession, not just because it was jarring but because it was stirring thoughts in his head that he usually tried to fight around you.

“And for god sakes, I want to suck dick!” You threw your arms out as if you just told him something as casual as craving a slushee.

His eyebrows lifted at your statement. The visual of it alone was enough to cause a slight tightening in his pants.

“I chose that to get rid of because I just want to get it over with!” You nearly spat. It felt so liberating to get it all out in the open, to finally spill the feelings you’d been hoarding in your lonely heart.

When you met his eyes, the air between you was unexpectedly different.

“And what’s stopped you?” He asked smoothly, his voice now like velvet.

“I- uh,” Suddenly, you were flustered, and your cheeks blushed. “I-I don’t know.” Your shoulders lifted to a shrug. “I was never comfortable enough with anyone… I guess.”

He took a step towards you to which you mirrored with a step back, landing right into a tree. “Are you comfortable with me?”

Your eyes rounded at his question, “What do you mean?” Because of course, he couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you thought he was.

“Answer the question.” He replied firmly as he stepped closer. It made your tummy flutter because you’d never heard him speak like that.

“Um, yes?”

Jake knew he was walking a thin line; he shouldn’t be using this for selfish reasons. But if it was for the sake of helping you, he could set aside the way he felt about you for the moment. He was sure that if you agreed, it would be purely a transactional favor and nothing more. That it wouldn’t mean anything to you. He tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t mean anything to him either.

But, after he heard all the firsts you were missing, he was determined to be the one to provide them for you. He thought, if he couldn’t make you love him, he at least knew he’d be able to give you an experience you wouldn’t forget. Maybe he’d give you something to return to, something to think about all alone, with your hand between your legs. That thought alone was enough to satisfy something somewhere in him. If he couldn’t have all of you, at least this way he could claim one part—his choice.

“Then let me help you.” He offered simply, like he was asking to help you sweep.

“Help me what?” You questioned with furrowed brows.

“Lose your virginity.” He stepped closer until he was right in front of you, his cold breath billowing out between you both.

You blinked up at him dumbfounded as a silent war waged inside you. On one hand, you’d absolutely die at the chance of having him in that way. You’d be lying to yourself if you said there wasn’t some locked away part of your heart that always wished it would be him. Maybe you’d accidentally been waiting for him this whole time, with the hope that he’d fall in love with you somewhere along the way. But on the other hand, you were petrified of being that vulnerable with him. It’s not like he’d ever shown any interest in you before, who knew if he even found you attractive. Maybe this was just some cruel pity favor.

“I-I,” you began weakly before squaring your shoulders defiantly. “I don’t want to be some sort of charity project.”

“Does it look like I just whip out my dick for charities?” He half joked.

The comment made you giggle first before warming your cheeks at the reality of the agreement you were about to make. “No.” You shook your head at the hypothetical question.

The air between you thickened, charged with tension as your eyes locked in a silent stalemate, each of you waiting to see who would make the first move.

“You wanna suck dick?” The cashmere quality of his voice made the question sound like the most casually appealing thing in the world.

After a moment, without allowing yourself too much time to think about it, you replied, “Yes.”

“Then get on your knees.” He ordered and the authoritativeness in his tone settled a buzzing in your core.

“What? Now? Here?” You nearly shrieked. “It’s freezing cold, Jake! We’re in a forest!”

His face was stoic in a way that was almost infuriating. He was the most unbothered you’d ever seen him.

“Our friends are right there!” you protested, pointing toward the trees, though your words were just a delay tactic. With the distance and the cover of the trees between you, you knew they wouldn’t be able to see a thing.

“Do you want to suck my cock or not?”

His verbiage made your eyes nearly pop out of your head and it only worsened the wetness pooling in your panties. Wordlessly, you slowly sunk to your knees in front of him. You were silently grateful that it hadn’t snowed that day.

“I do.” You whispered, looking up at him beneath your lashes. He looked beautiful from this angle, chiseled and radiant.

“Okay then. Stop fighting me.” His voice dipping back into the Jake you’ve always known. “If you want to stop at any point, tell me, okay?” When you were a bit too overwhelmed to reply, his hand softly found your jaw to tilt it up at him. “You promise to tell me? If you can’t say anything just pat my leg, okay?”

You nodded.

“Nuh-uh, I need to hear it.” He shook his head but kept his gentle grip on your face.

“Yes.”

He leaned down to hover just above your face, “And, if something feels good, I want to hear that too.” He whispered with his eyes intently on yours before straightening back up.

You nodded again but quickly corrected yourself, “Yes.”

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were learning to bend to him.

“Good.”

His fingers slowly began to undo his belt buckle and you were ashamed of how much your mouth was already watering. You watched his digits as they diligently worked on getting his zipper down and unfolding each side of his jeans enough. You could tell he was planning on just keeping them just below his hips, but you decided to take executive action and tug them all the way down.

“Eager, are we?” He flashed a deadly smirk that made your chest clench.

“Maybe.” You replied honestly.

“You’ve never given head before?”

You shook your head in response.

“Give me your hands.” He held out his palms to take yours in.

You complied and he took over your hands, moving them for you. He brought them to the band of his black boxer briefs and hooked your fingers into it to pull them down. Your eyes widened when his half-erection sprung from the underwear. While it wasn’t fully hard yet, it was already bigger than what you expected.

He held one of your hands palm-up in order to lean down and spit into it before bringing it to his shaft. His own hand guided yours to grip it to his desire. Your eyes met his as he began moving your hand up and down gently. Below your fingertips you could feel him hardening by the second, his veins beginning to bulge and his tip starting to swell.

You watched as his chest tightened with every movement of your hand. Once he saw that you got the hang of it, he left your hands. You continued the momentum he’d began, even pulling off to spit again to relubricate. You watched it pulse in your hand, and it made you feel powerful. He could pretend he was in charge all he wanted but when it bounced in your palm, you knew that you were the one really in control. In the obscenest way, you’d even consider it beautiful – how perfectly it was shaped and how it was duo-toned, darker pink towards the tip and paler at the base. It also had the most perfect slight curve up to it that made you wonder how that’d feel inside.

You snapped out of your daze and pumped him in your fist a couple more times before sinking it down to the base, holding it in place. You leaned forward and placed a gentle lick at his tip, causing it to bounce on your tongue and it made you smile wide. You did that to him.

When you finally placed his tip into your mouth, it nearly filled it entirely. But you persisted and slowly took him into your mouth. As you sunk down on him, he let out a low groan from the pit of his stomach. You found that to make you feel the most powerful of all. It only made you want to keep making him sound like that.

You took as much of him as you could and used your hand to stroke the part you couldn’t reach.

Unexpectedly, you felt his fingers rake through your hair, moving it away from your face. You gazed up with your mouth full of him and he looked almost drunk on you.

“Fuck,” He breathed out. “Keep looking at me like that and I won’t last much longer.”

The statement made your heart swell, even though it might’ve just been him lost in lust, the idea of him being that turned on by you made this questionable decision worth it.

You could tell that his words were true by the way his cock was twitching in your mouth. Taking it as a sign, you quickened your speed and began to let his tip land into the back of your throat. The groans that this elicited from him were heavenly and you didn’t want to stop.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groaned, watching you with an intensity that made your skin burn. “Stop if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth.”

You decided in the moment that this was in fact the experience you asked for and you wanted the whole thing, authentically. So, you just blinked up at him, signaling that stopping wasn’t an option.

“Fuck.” He dragged out the word, letting his head fall backwards with his jaw slung open.

Not long after that, his fingers tightened in your hair and his milky release spilled into the back of your throat.

You pulled away with wide eyes up at him, he looked so fucked out with half lidded eyes. “My god.”

You winced, bracing for harsh criticism. “Oh god, was it bad?”

“Bad?!” He exclaimed. “I can’t believe that was your first time. That might’ve been the best I’ve ever had.”

The grin that pulled on your face was wide with overbearing pride. “Really?”

He leaned down and grasped your cheek the way he did before, “Yeah. You did so good.”

Out of everything you’d experienced thus far tonight, that was undoubtedly the best one yet. It filled you with a feeling like you’d do absolutely anything to hear him say that again.

Once readjusted and tucked back into his pants, he held out a hand. You took the offer and let him help you to your feet and kept you steady when you were a bit wobbly on your stiff legs. You both laughed at the interaction, feeling like normal you and Jake. It was odd to feel that way while just having him in your mouth.

Once steadied, he asked you a question that made your knees weak all over again. “Have you ever been eaten out?”

The air vacated from your lungs and by the smirk growing on his face, you took that he knew the answer already and just wanted to see you riled up.

“You’re really cute when you’re flustered.” He admitted.

Rosy pink bloomed on your cheeks, and you were exceedingly grateful for the mostly darkness surrounding you, save for the glow from the bonfire. “Shut up.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” His voice was smooth as butter again. “Has anyone ever eaten your pussy?”

The blatant wording made your clit begin to pulse. That wasn’t something you even expected would be on the table and now that it was, it was all you could think about. You shook your head with bright red cheeks.

“Nuh-uh.” His fingers went up to hold your chin in place. “I told you I need to hear it. But since you don’t want to listen, now I really want you to use your words.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to hear you say it. I want you to tell me you’ve never been eaten out before.”

Feeling a bit emboldened with a mischievous nature, you decided to one up him. “No, but I want you to eat my pussy.”  

By the way his eyes rounded it was obvious he wasn’t expecting that answer. You took it a step further. “I want you to eat my pussy and I want you inside me.”

His eyes raised a bit at your bluntness but ultimately nodded, “Okay. That can definitely be arranged.”

“Okay.” A bit of shyness began to fill your limbs like sand. A brief awkwardness fueled the air between you at the realization of what just happened and what you just said. It was a small window of clarity into what you were doing and while a part of you was ashamed, another part was on fire. You saw yourself through the glass and realized that you’d never felt more alive.

The glow from the bonfire that had once bathed the forest in warm light began to fade. You both peeked through the trees, watching as the group slowly began to douse the flames, signaling the end of the night.

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” he whispered, his voice low even though there was no chance anyone else could hear him. “It looks like they’re leaving the outdoor lights on for us, so we’ll wait until they all head inside and get settled in their rooms. Then, we’ll sneak in and go straight to mine, alright?”

“Okay,” you whispered back, a nervous excitement curling in your stomach.

Once the fire was completely out and the last of the group made their way indoors, Jake slipped his hand into yours, guiding you through the trees. You stifled a laugh when he stumbled over a branch, the sound of his quick, “Shut up,” making you giggle even more. Halfway through your journey is when you realized your hands were tied and it made your heart flutter.

In that moment, you felt like a teenager again—sneaking back into your house, adrenaline racing through your veins as if you were getting away with something you weren’t supposed to. The excitement, the secrecy—it was almost intoxicating.

The path to Jake’s room felt like something out of a late-night adventure, every step echoing too loudly in the stillness of the house. Once inside his room, you pressed your body against the door to shut it quietly, the tension of your movements almost comical. As soon as it clicked into place, both of you burst into laughter, doing your best to stifle the sound so the others wouldn’t hear.

Everything felt so ridiculous—sneaking around like this, hiding something that, in the grand scheme of things, felt so absurdly trivial. That this was all about him helping you lose your virginity, of all things, made it even more surreal.

The giggles faded the second your eyes met. Before you could overthink anything, he took your face in his hands and pulled you into a kiss. As cliché as it was, it felt magical, like sparkles spiraling themselves around you. It was everything you’d ever dreamed it’d be. He felt amazing against your numbing lips.

He pulled away just enough to catch your eyes again. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked earnestly.

“Yes. Definitely yes.” You confirmed. While you were still drunk you knew you would never have the courage to do this sober. There was no way you’d regret the courage the alcohol was supplying you.

His eyes darted across your face and his thumb swiped across your bottom lip. “And this is okay?”

“Absolutely.” You breathed out as he leaned back in to meet your lips again.

The kiss quickly deepened, entwining your tongues in a heated dance. Your hands immediately found his flannel, nearly tearing it off of him. He helped you by flinging it off his arms to the ground without parting from you, but your hands were already trying to pry his shirt off.

He parted from you with a devious smile as he tugged the band tee over his head. “God, you’re impatient.” He chuckled and used his finger to tilt your chin up so he could kiss you. “Can I take something off you?”

Pink tinted your cheeks at the question. “Sure.” You shrugged. “I won’t be nearly as impressive as you.”

He scoffed at your words, “You’re fucking insane if you think that.” His fingers found the hem of your hoodie indicating that he wanted it off.

Your eyes widened when you remembered just how little you actually had on. “I um, I’m not wearing a shirt….or a bra.”

His eyes flickered up to yours, “You’ve been braless all night?”

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and nodded.

“Fuck that’s hot.” He muttered and paused before beginning to lift the hoodie over your head. Your nipples pebbled the second the cold air hit them. You thought you’d be significantly more self-conscious about them but by the way he was looking at you as if you were a full course meal, you felt almost confident.

His hands slid down your bare sides, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. “God, I need to taste you, like,” he swiftly guided you towards the bed. “Like right now.”

You took that as a sign to sit down where he set you. He softly guided you into a more proper position, laying you down flat with your legs dangling off the bed. His lips found your neck and you thought you might even be able to cum just from the way he nipped and sucked at your skin. Your hand tangled into his long hair, tipping his beanie off his head and you tossed it to the ground. “Jake.” You breathed out in an attempt to get his attention. “Jake.” You repeated, more sternly this time. “Jake you can’t leave a mark on me.” Your voice came out shakey and quiet.

“And why not?” He countered, popping his head back up.

“You know why.” You sighed. “They’ll know.”

A smirk tugged at one edge of his lips, “So? I don’t care if they know.”

“Jakey it’s embarrassing!” You squealed.

“Okay okay.” He relented with a smile, pressing a gentle kiss below your ear. “I’ll just give you ones they can’t see.”

He trailed down your skin, smirking into each small kiss knowing how flustered he was making you. His lips landed on your breast and did something you didn’t expect – he took your nipple into his mouth and began to lick at it. “Oh.” Your eyes widened at the sensation. Between this and the work he’d left on your neck, your panties were soaked with anticipation. Your hand curled in his hair as his hand found your other breast and began to knead the flesh in his fingers. The feeling of it all was foreign but incredibly delightful.

He pulled off your nipple with a pop and with eyes so full of lust, “I’m going to eat your pussy now.” He informed you. He pressed open mouth kisses down your torso, taking extra time to suck marks into your hipbones.

Finally, he sunk to his knees in front of you and helped you out of your leggings until you were finally completely bare to him.

His eyes were fixated on your core like he was in a trance. “Can I touch you?”

“Have you not been touching me this whole time?” You asked rhetorically, propping yourself on your elbows.

“Just making sure.” He pressed a kiss to your thigh without his eyes leaving your cunt. Slowly, he made his way up your thigh until he was pulling you to the very edge with both arms. His fingers experimentally spread you open. “Fuck. You’re so fucking wet.”

Your cheeks heated red hot at the comment. “Shut u-” you went silent when you felt his tongue meet your cunt. It began at your entrance and moved its way up to your aching bud, lapping up all your wetness. “Oh.” You all but moaned.

His tongue expertly began rolling against your clit in a soft rhythm. It was by far the most pleasurable thing you’d ever felt. If you had been sober, you would’ve been so caught up in your head about so many things, but drunk you was only concerned about feeling good.

You let out a moan when he started making ‘S’ patterns against your buzzing clit. The sound made him buffer and let out a moan against you in return. The vibrations of his groan nudged you towards your edge. It was a little embarrassing how quickly he was able to get you there. Your hand plunged into his hair, grabbing hold of it. “Jake, I think- oh, oh.”

He did a small nod against you, indicating that he understood. His hand gave your thigh a small squeeze urging you on. His speed increased marginally, just enough to tip you over. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your volume increased which made you grab a pillow to expel your noises into. Your thighs clamped around his head as you felt yourself let go. Electricity sparked across your entire body, filling it with a feeling you’ve only ever felt alone. It was a vastly different experience climaxing by the hand of another person. You never wanted the moment to end but you soon felt yourself returning back to earth.

Jake tapered off of you slowly then made his way up to your face. He gently took the pillow from your grasp, revealing his smiling face. Rosy pink tinted your cheeks at the sight of his face covered in your slick. He smiled as if he’d just won some competition. “You tasted fucking delicious, I could eat you all fucking day.”

You could’ve playfully hit his arm and told him to shut up but your fucked out brain only had one thing in mind. Your hands scrambled to his belt buckle beginning to undo it. Your glossy eyes looked up at his surprised ones. “I need your cock.”

“Okay, okay, slow down.” He chuckled at your hasty actions. His hands found yours to slow them. “There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

You nodded bashfully. “Okay.”

He allowed you to continue on your plight of stripping him from his belt, hissing it through the loops of his pants, then tossing it to the floor. “Should I get a condom?”

“You have a condom?”

He shrugged, “I keep one in my wallet.”

You mulled it over, it was probably the smart thing to do, but you wanted the full experience. You shook your head, “Don’t need it. I’m on birth control.”

“Okay.” He confirmed, slowly peeling himself out of his dark skinny jeans. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the sight of him this way. The least you’d ever seen him in were swim trunks and this was about to be so much better than that. He slowly pulled his boxer briefs down past his hips, letting his length spring free. Compared to in the forest, this time he was hard enough for it to smack his lower tummy. It was even better in the light instead of the faintly lit wilderness. You figured this would be a one-time thing between the two of you, but the thought of never having this again with him was almost excruciating. Thoughts of what tomorrow would look like for both of you began to creep in, but you quickly shelved them. That was a problem for tomorrow-you, right now-you was about to lose your virginity to the boy you’d been in love with since 5th grade. He may not love you back but in this moment you didn’t care. Tonight would forever live as an anomaly in your heart.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt him brush his tip between your folds. “This might hurt.” He warned. “I’ll go slow but if you need me to stop, just tell me, okay?”

You took a deep inhale and nodded. Carefully, he aligned himself with your entrance and pushed his head in. He was right, it did hurt, more than you had anticipated. It didn’t help that he was quite large, definitely larger than average. “Breathe for me, okay?” His hand soothed your hip, giving it a little squeeze.

You blinked the burning from your eyes and took a deep inhale as he continued to push into you. It felt what you imagined what being torn in half would be like, your body being ripped apart from your most sensitive part.

“How does that feel?” He asked curiously, seeing the wince on your face.

“Painful.” You exhaled, “Full.”

“Oh,” His voice was both cautious yet smug. “I’m nowhere near done filling you up.”

Your eyes widened at his statement and while it was terrifying it was also thrilling. You could feel the flesh of your walls part for him, you felt all of him in great detail. He finally bottomed out, careful to not jam himself into your cervix.

Blinking at the ceiling, you processed everything you were experiencing. You took a mental picture of the moment, even though it was incredibly uncomfortable, it was exactly what you’d asked for. It was a moment you’d remember for the rest of your life. You’d forever compare any sexual experience to this moment. You were suddenly grateful for the events of the night – while they had been exceptionally humiliating, it led you straight to this. You didn’t lose your virginity to a random boy; you lost it to your best friend. You lost it to Jake. You gave it to Jake.

His gentle hand on your side grounded you, “You okay?” He asked softly.

You smiled genuinely at him, “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” He mirrored your authentic grin. “I’m gonna move now, okay?”

You nodded and laid your head back down. His hips began to slide in and out of you incredibly slow, just to let you get comfortable with the sensation. After the 3rd or 4th thrust, the burn started to feel good. Then as he sped up marginally, it started to feel really good.

“Oh.” You said absentmindedly, letting your thought spill from your lips.

He smirked and ran his hand up your thigh. “That feel good baby?”

Baby?

You weren’t about to dissect that now.

“Uh-huh.” You breathed out, leaving your focus from the ceiling to meet his face. “Feels really good.”

“Good, good.” He softly lifted your knee up and placed a chaste kiss there. “Now, you told me you watch porn?” He asked and it shocked you right back into reality.

“…Yeah?”

“So, you touch yourself while you watch?”

Your eyes widened, though you shouldn’t be embarrassed, you offered that information up to him. “Yeah?”

His hand went up and tenderly picked up your hand, bringing it to your center. “Show me.”

You blinked at him, that being the last thing you ever expected him to say. He picked up on your hesitation and clarified further. “It’ll help. It’ll make it better.”

While you knew it was the truth, being in the spotlight was little intimidating. But you did as he asked and began using two fingers to roll circles into your clit, just like you did alone. And he was right, suddenly everything intensified and became significantly more pleasurable. The sensation made you wetter which eased the process of him fucking you.

He intently watched your hand work on yourself, “Fuck.”

The moment quickly moved into a more comfortable yet heated rhythm. It was clear that once he knew you were feeling good, that he let himself get lost in you. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned and you remembered just how heavenly the sound was.

You felt a knot begin to form in your lower belly and you knew you were close already. With the way his brows were curved up and his head thrown back, you could tell he was near his end too.

“Jake, I’m close.” You informed quietly, barely hanging on.

“Me too, baby.”

There it was again – baby – perhaps he just let it slip, maybe he called everyone baby during sex. Either way, you couldn’t help the way it made your heart swell in your chest.

You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling growing beneath your fingertips. You’d never came with something inside you before and it made you a little nervous to find out what it would feel like.

“C’mon baby, cum all over my cock, will you?” His voice smooth and caring which was in vast contrast to how he was drilling into you and the words he was saying. But it was enough to cause the knot in your belly to snap.

White hot euphoria washed over you, filling your entire body with static buzzing that felt immaculate. The feeling of his cock filling you up while you pulsed around him was one of the best things you’d ever felt. You weren’t sure how you’d ever be able to live without him filling you up completely.

Shortly after, you felt him throb and twitch inside you, filling you with a warmth you’d never felt before. It was vaguely comforting and satisfying.

He stayed like that for a moment, letting you both come down slowly. When he pulled from you, he left you with an emptiness like never before. You didn’t feel whole anymore without him inside you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Let me clean you up.”

You nodded weakly, feeling exhausted.

He rummaged around and found a towel he was planning to use for a morning shower. In the gentlest manner, he spread your legs open but hesitated before bringing the towel to your core.

“Something wrong?” You lifted up on your elbows.

A shy smirk graced his lips and shook his head. “Just, you look so good being so full of me.”

Peach coated your cheeks at his statement, but you were too overwhelmed to respond.

He carefully used the towel to wipe you clean as best he could before cleaning himself off and tossing it aside. You watched him go into his suitcase and pull out a shirt and sleep pants. When he handed them to you, you blinked in surprise, your cheeks warming at the unexpected gesture. “Thanks,” you murmured, clutching the clothes to your chest. He nodded, already pulling out his own sleepwear to change.

The two of you changed in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier replaced by something softer, more intimate. Selfishly, you didn’t want the moment to end, so you lingered. Settling onto the corner of the bed where the walls met, you wrapped your arms around your knees, sitting quietly, almost shyly.

As if he had expected you to stay, Jake climbed into the bed and slid over to your corner. Without a word, he opened his arms in invitation. The unspoken warmth in his gesture made your heart ache, and you didn’t hesitate to lean into him. Nestling yourself into his chest beneath the covers, you let his body’s warmth melt away the night’s leftover tension.

For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence between you comfortable and steady. Then, his voice broke the stillness, soft but filled with something vulnerable. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You tilted your head up, furrowing your brows in confusion. “Fuck me?”

His laugh was quiet but genuine. “Kiss you,” he corrected, though his lips curled into a teasing smirk. “And, well... yeah, that too.”

Your stomach flipped and your gaze narrowed slightly as you studied his expression, wondering if this was some sort of twisted prank. “You wanted to kiss me?”

Now it was his turn to blush. His cheeks tinted a faint pink as he nodded. “Yeah. For a long time.”

You stared at him, still trying to make sense of it. “I’ve wanted to kiss you,” you admitted, though your voice was soft and hesitant, the words feeling like a secret you weren’t sure you should share.

His eyebrows lifted, surprise flickering across his face. “You have?”

Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze. “Yeah.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the mutual confessions hanging in the air. Then Jake’s hand found yours under the covers, his fingers brushing softly against your palm before curling around it. “Guess we’ve been idiots for a while then, huh?”

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth in his voice making your chest ache in the best way. “Yeah,” you said, settling back against him. “I guess we have.”

For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you, tucked away beneath the covers. The weight of your confessions hung between you like a fragile, shimmering thread, and all at once, the space between you felt much, much smaller.

You caught a wide grin pull at his lips before nudging you lightly. “So… does that mean you had a good time?”

You laughed and nudged his chest in return. “Was it not obvious?”

His chuckle was warm and teasing. “No, it was definitely obvious.”

“Shush,” you murmured, curling back into his chest and letting his heat seep into you. “I don’t want to leave here,” you whispered, the words carrying more weight than you intended.

His arm wrapped around you, tugging you closer. “Then don’t.”

“But the others… in the morning.” You mumbled, toying with a loose string on his shirt.

“What about them?”

“They’ll know.” You frowned, assuming he wouldn’t want them to find out.

He chuckled as he started tracing circles on your back. “They already know how I feel about you silly.”

Your eyes snapped up at him with knitted brows. “What?”

His gaze softened as he met your confusion with a small laugh. “Star, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who doesn’t know.”

Bright red heat bloomed across your cheeks, and you groaned, burying your face in the crook of his arm. “Am I really that oblivious?”

Jake laughed again, a deep, genuine sound that made your chest feel impossibly full. “You’re definitely that oblivious.”

Before you could summon a reply, a sleepy yawn escaped your lips, cutting off any protest. Jake’s hand on your back stilled, shifting to a soothing rhythm. “We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

The weight of his warmth, his words, and the steady beat of his heart lulled you further into comfort. “It’s been a long night. Let’s just get some sleep,” he added softly.

The sound of his voice, paired with the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing, was enough to quiet your thoughts. You snuggled deeper into his arms, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time. And as sleep pulled you under, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of hope flicker in your chest for what this all meant for the two of you.

The morning light filtered softly through the blinds, and you stirred awake before Jake did. His arm was still draped over you, heavy with sleep. For a moment, you just stayed there, your head nestled against his chest, listening to his even breathing. But as the hazy comfort gave way to clarity, reality hit—you needed to change. The thought of anyone catching you leaving his room in his clothes was mortifying. You reached over and tapped to wake the screen of his phone to check the time and found it to be way earlier than any of them usually wake up.

Carefully, you slipped out from under his arm, trying not to disturb him. Jake mumbled something incoherent but didn’t wake, and you smiled softly at his peaceful expression before tiptoeing to the door. Once outside, you made a beeline for your own room, keeping your head down to avoid any potential early risers.

Unfortunately, luck was not on your side. You turned the corner and collided directly with Josh, who was strolling the hallway in his robe, a mug of tea in hand.

“Star!” he exclaimed, his grin wide and immediate. “You’re okay!”

Your cheeks flamed as you smiled sheepishly, awkwardly thumbing over your shoulder. “Yeah, Jake helped me.”

Josh’s grin morphed into something much more mischievous as his gaze drifted over your borrowed sleepwear. The smirk on his lips was nothing short of wicked. “Oh, I’m sure he did.”

Your face burned brighter, and you sputtered, “It’s not—it’s not like that!”

Josh raised a brow, his expression practically screaming that he didn’t believe you. “Mmhmm,” he said, drawing out the sound with exaggerated suspicion. “So, you just happened to end up in his clothes? After sneaking back inside together last night?”

“I—uh—” You struggled for an explanation, but Josh was already enjoying your discomfort far too much.

“Relax, Star,” he said, chuckling as he sipped his tea. “I’m just messing with you. Well… mostly.” He winked before stepping aside, leaving you standing there flustered and mortified.

As you hurried back to your room, you couldn’t help but groan internally. You knew Josh wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon. And worse, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the smirk on his face would spread to the rest of the group before breakfast was even over.

But despite the overwhelming embarrassment that flushed through you in waves, something else lingered beneath it—a warmth that wrapped around your chest and made your heart beat just a little faster. You couldn’t deny the spark that had ignited between you and Jake, or how it made you feel both giddy and alive. The night had been raw, vulnerable, and thrilling—far more than you'd ever expected, but not a single moment of it felt like a mistake. You were scared, sure, but a part of you was also eager for what came next. There were still a lot of unknowns—what it meant for you and Jake, what your friends would say—but deep down, you knew you’d never regret what had happened. If anything, it was a new beginning, and despite everything, you felt a strange sense of peace with that.

A/N; thanks for reading! i’d love to know your thoughts 🩷

Comment or send an ask to be added to any future taglists 🩷

[coco-loco-nut]

High Flyer - Part 3

pairing: charles x reader

summary: life never goes as planned, as evidenced by a phone call mid race

a/n: thank you so much for the request 🫶 its given me an idea for a fourth part too

masterlist requests open

——————————

There is nothing more that a driver looks forward to more than breaks, and you were practically counting down the days until the summer shutdown.

Not that you don’t like racing, you love racing, but you miss your bed and home in Vence, just outside of Nice. You and Charles chose the property due to its proximity to Monaco and the space to grow your family in the future. The garage space also helps with your car collection.

You started searching the property soon after your elopement, and you closed on it quickly. It even was the site where your official wedding ceremony was held, a relatively small and intimate gathering of close family and friends. The backyard made for the perfect backdrop, and it was nice to have a dinner with everyone to celebrate.

“Is that Charles? Can I say hi?” Arthur pops his head into your drivers room as you are on the phone.

“Of course, don’t take too long,” you pass off your phone, watching your brother-in-law’s face light up. Arthur hands back the phone after a couple minutes so you can finish your conversation.

“I don’t have too long left,” Charles sighs, not wanting the call to end.

“I know, deployment and F1 don’t really mesh well. Are you flying soon?” you ask, the hole in your heart growing as the end of the call gets closer.

“It will be over before we know it. I have a flight scheduled soon, training for a mission. What are you doing for break?” Charles asks, trying to get a little more conversation in and a feeble attempt to distract you from his job.

“I’ll travel with Arthur for a week, he is keeping the location a surprise, then I’m hosting the boys for a few days,” you didn’t really plan much.

“That sounds nice. My call time is almost up, I love you,” Charles says sadly.

“We will talk soon, I love you more,” the connection ends and you frown at your phone, already missing him.

“Even if he isn’t here, you have the next best thing right here,” Arthur grins and you can’t fight your smile. The two of you have grown close, you would disown your grid kids for him if necessary.

“Espressos?” you ask, needing a boost of energy.

“This isn’t Haas,” Arthur teases Ollie, who is patiently waiting for a Macchiato.

“Can’t a boy visit his grid mom?” Ollie smiles as you hug him.

“Of course, but no stealing strategies,” you say, happily taking your espresso from the barista.

The three of you chat until Ollie gets called back to Haas. As the self-proclaimed empty nester in the paddock, you enjoy when your boys stop in.

The race weekend drags on, and on, and on, until you finally get to the race. Each lap is one lap closer to your break.

A reporter noticed your eagerness for break before the race and asked you about it.

“Well, I’m no spring chicken anymore. My body and mind is looking forward to a few weeks off to relax and rejuvenate. I’m not as young as my kids are, they could probably race for a few more weeks back-to-back before needing the summer break,” you joke. Seven seasons in is a long time for motorsport, the average career in F1 is around 8 years - not that you plan on retiring any time soon. Ferrari will probably have to drag you out of Maranello when you are old and grey. Legit grey though, not Oscar and Jack joking that you have a grey hair and making you freak out.

Your manager, Nicholas, watches from the garage, standing with Arthur as they watch you closely. On lap 32 your phone begins buzzing with a call, and without really looking at the number he answers is.

“Nicholas Todd speaking for Mrs. Leclerc, how can I help you,” he answers almost robotically.

“This is an urgent message for Mrs. Leclerc regarding her husband, can she be on the phone?” A voice replies, sounding overly formal. Nicholas shifts a little nervously, glancing at the screen.

“Not at the moment,” he replies, Arthur looks at him, curious as to what’s happening. Nicholas catches sight of Arthur and hurriedly adds to his statement. “I can put you on with Mr. Leclerc’s brother,” he says, earning a satisfied response from the caller. Arthur curiously takes the phone, stepping into a quieter spot.

“Arthur Leclerc speaking,” he says a little warily.

“Good Afternoon Mr. Leclerc, your brother, Charles, has been wounded in a training incident and is currently being transported back to France for recovery,” Arthur listens carefully as the necessary details are conveyed.

“I will pass the message along to Charles’ wife, will you be notifying our mother?” Arthur asks, receiving confirmation of the next people that will be notified. As the call ends, Arthur’s mind kicks into crisis mode.

“What was the issue?” Nicholas asks, watching as you have a stellar overtake for P3.

“Charles is wounded, he’s being evacuated for recovery,” Arthur does his best not to panic. He knows that Charles must be okay for it to just be a phone call, but he can’t help but worry. It doesn’t help that you are none the wiser as you drive.

“Shit. Do you think we should pass the information along to her now?” Nicholas also goes into crisis management mode.

“No, she’d want to pull out of the race and it’s almost over. I’ll talk to the team, book the earliest flight back to Nice that you can,” Arthur instructs before searching for the PR team so they can get you out of media duties. Fred is his next stop, catching the team principal as soon as the race ends.

“I can’t get her out of the podium, but I can make sure she gets out of everything else,” Fred promises, sending Arthur on his way to intercept you.

“Great drive,” Arthur smiles as he hugs you.

“Thanks,” you eye him warily. “Something is off, what are you hiding?”

“Something happened, Charles is fine, I will tell you more about the call after the podium,” Arthur says, sending your mind in a spin.

“What happened?” you press, heart rate rising. Arthur walks with you to the cooldown room.

“I don’t know exactly, he’s injured but he’s okay. I promise I will tell you more right after the podium. Nicholas is rebooking our flights now and Fred is getting you out of the post-podium duties,” Arthur tries to soothe you. You feel a little numb as your brain tries to process everything without panicking.

“He’s okay?”

“It wouldn’t have been a phone call if it were serious,” Arthur says, trying to reassure himself too.

It seems to be enough for you to mask your worry with a nod.

“Meet me in my drivers room after the podium,” your voice is a little shaky as you part from Arthur. You feel numb throughout the ceremony, leaving as soon as champagne starts to be sprayed.

“I called Maman and booked a hotel near the base, our flights have been successfully updated,” Arthur says as you get back.

“Thank you,” you pull him into a tight hug.

“What are brothers for?” Arthur says, melting into your hug a little. You’ve never gotten ready to leave the paddock so quickly or packed a hotel room, but you soon find yourself on a plane back to Nice.

Pascale awaits the two of you at the airport, a coffee in her hand for you. You didn’t sleep on the flight at all. Even though that you know Charles is okay, you can’t fight the anxiety and fear the courses through you.

“Hi sweetheart,” Pascale hugs you after handing you the coffee.

“Wow, I thought I was your favorite child?” Arthur jokes, earning an eye roll from Pascale.

“I love all my biological children equally, I just happen to love Y/n more,” Pascale says cheekily, making you chuckle.

“Don’t let Enzo and Charlotte hear that,” you say, happily taking a seat in the car. Arthur sits in the back with you since Lorenzo is in the front seat.

“It’s a party in here,” Arthur smiles, trying to liven up the car.

“Phenomenal drive,” Lorenzo looks back at you.

“Thanks,” your tired smile is enough to end the conversation. The gentle sway of the vehicle as Pascale is enough to make you fall asleep.

As you are asleep, Arthur gets a text from Charles letting him know that he’s back on base. Arthur sends back a picture of you sleeping against the window, cozy in one of Charles’ hoodies, as well as when you will be there to visit. Your phone buzzes with a good night and congratulations text from Charles, but you don’t stir. The exhaustion of the day hit you hard and you couldn’t fight it any longer.

Arthur carries you to your hotel room while Lorenzo and Pascale worry about the luggage.

You wake up to sun peeking through the blinds. Arthur is sprawled out on the queen bed beside yours, lightly snoring into the pillow. You turn and see your phone plugged in on the nightstand. Scrolling through your notifications you see the text from Charles. A smile tugs at your lips as you quickly fire off a reply. An alarm starts going off, making you jump a little.

“No,” Arthur groans, barely conscious while pressing snooze. Silently you get out of bed, finding your suitcase and retrieving everything you need for a shower.

The hour creeps by as you anxiously meet up with the family and go to the base. Following the directions, you make your way to the hotel room Charles is being kept in for the moment. As you reach the door, the sterile environment surrounding you, you feel a wave of nerves consume you. Almost like you are a little kid.

“Go ahead, I need a second,” you whisper to Pascale who gently squeezes your hand and offers an understanding smile.

“It’s scary, we will be inside waiting for you,” Pascale says, entering behind Lorenzo and Arthur. “Y/n will be here in a moment, she had to take a call,” Pascale buys you time. She knows how scary it is seeing the person you love hurt. You let your heart rate settle before stepping into the room, watching Charles’ face light up when he sees you.

“Mon ange,” Charles whispers as you lean in to kiss him.

“You aren’t allowed to scare me like that,” you smile, a tear threatening to escape.

“Now you know how I feel when you drive,” Charles replies, reaching up and pushing back a piece of hair.

“I feel like we are intruding,” Lorenzo jokes. Charles awkwardly shifts to the side of the bed, pulling you down with him. Pascale creates an excuse that involves them stepping out for a moment, giving you and Charles a quiet moment alone.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m alive and well,” Charles grabs your hand, pressing it to his heart.

“I know, it just isn’t what you want to hear first thing after a race,” you feel yourself relax as you rest your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat reassuring.

“I think I might leave after my commitment,” Charles admits softly, drawing your eyes up to him.

“Next year?”

“I want to be with you, help build our future, maybe even be a stay at home dad one day,” Charles runs a hand through your hair.

“I could always hire you to be my private jet pilot,” you suggest.

“But then I couldn’t be with you mid flight,” Charles winks, making you flush.

“Cheeky,” you lightly nudge him.

“Let’s not worry about what I will do career wise yet,”

“My full time WAG,” you chuckle, letting out a sigh of content when Charles pulls you close.

“When I get discharged today I can go home and recover. I just have to do paperwork remotely and come back for medical appointments,” Charles reveals, drawing your eyes back up to him.

“Really? Is it wrong to say that I’m glad it’s summer break?” you ask, hand moving up to play with the ends of his hair.

“No, it is nice to be home with you,” Charles agrees. He leans down and you tilt your head up so your lips can meet his in a soft kiss. Charles lets out a soft groan of content as his mind wanders to the few weeks ahead of you while he heals.

“We brought food,” Arthur breaks your quiet conversation. The rest of the morning is spent eagerly awaiting discharge. When you do eventually get home, Pascale helps to get Charles settled while Lorenzo cooks dinner. You and Arthur prep the guest rooms so they can stay the night.

“Sorry you had to cancel the trip,” you apologize to Arthur who just shrugs as he puts the pillowcase on a pillow.

“That’s okay, we can go during the next break. I think I’ll go back to Monaco for a bit then come back here when the boys get here,” Arthur says, not fussed about missing the trip.

“I’ll let you settle in,” you leave the room, going to your own so you can change into sweatpants and a hoodie.

Charles beat you to it, you open the door to see him shirtless with sweatpants sitting low on his hips. You catch yourself staring hungrily until you snap out of it.

“Sit back down on the bed, how are you even standing without crutches,” you chastise him, closing the bedroom door behind you before crossing the room.

“Putting my weight on one leg works well enough,” Charles grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him.

“Well you shouldn’t be doing that when you just had surgery on the ankle,” you frown, trying not to look at your ridiculously hot husband in front of you. His hands slip under your shirt, traveling up your back. Shivers run down your spine as one hand slides forward.

“Hmm, well maybe I should just lay down then and let you do the work,” Charles murmurs huskily, as you glance at the door.

“We’d have to be quick,” you reply quietly.

“5 months without you, I’m pretty sure I can be quick,” he smiles, letting you take over. His rough hands gliding across your skin as you straddle his waist.

“I guess we should rejoin them before they get suspicious,” Charles sighs, pressing a kiss to your head as you snuggle into his side.

“I guess so, but tomorrow afternoon we will have the whole house to ourselves,” you grin, rolling away to throw comfy clothes back on.

“I can’t wait,” Charles pulls on the hoodie that you tossed to him as well as some shorts.

“Use the crutches,” you narrow your eyes as he stands up, likely planning on just hopping to the kitchen.

“Or I could use you as my support,” Charles takes the crutches from you. You glance down at the cast encompassing his ankle.

“Are your feet cold?” you frown, brows furrowed with worry.

“I’m okay, if something hurts you will be the first to know. I promise,” Charles tries to ease your worry. You nod as there is a knock on the bedroom door.

“Dinner is ready kids,” Pascale says as you open the door.

“Thank you, Maman. We were about to come down,” Charles answers before you can.

“Take it easy,” you stress. The first two weeks are important to recovery and you know he isn’t great at sitting still. Pascale watches you fuss and she feels her heart warm at how careful you are with each other.

“Took you long enough,” Arthur says, mouth half full. Lorenzo fights a laugh as Pascale scolds him.

“We were busy,” Charles smirks. You whip your head towards him, smacking his shoulder.

“Charles,” you gasp, voice a mix of scolding and being scandalized.

“What?” he says innocently as you sit at the table.

“Enough, let’s enjoy this meal,” Pascale says, taking in the sight of all her children minus Charlotte.

“Oh, I have the perfect bottle of wine for this, I’ll be right back,” you quickly stand up, going to find the bottle.

“So when am I getting a grandchild?” Pascale looks at her three boys with a raised brow. Arthur chooses that moment to closely study the rug beneath the oak table.

“This decor is quite nice, I like that vase,” Arthur says.

“Charlotte and I aren’t even married yet,” Lorenzo protests, turning the attention to Charles.

“Buying our home was the first step, but we are waiting for Y/n to at least win the championship first,” Charles shrugs.

“Doesn’t she have a good lead right now?” Lorenzo asks, a smile smile playing on Charles face.

“Is she? I had no idea,” he says slyly.

“She could probably drive for the first few months of pregnancy,” Arthur interjects, feeling left out.

“If she has the smoothest pregnancy ever that is,” Pascale adds.

“Alright, let’s not rush it that soon. We will discuss it over winter break,” Charles shuts it down.

“Discuss what over winter break?” you ask, holding a bottle of wine and four glasses in your hands.

“When you and Charles are going to have a kid,” Arthur answers first as you sit down.

“Ah. Yes, no plans of being pregnant mid-season. Not really keen on missing a whole season either,” you say, pouring the wine.

“Where’s mine?” Charles asks as everyone gets a glass but him.

“No wine with your medicine, mon amour,” you tell him.

“We don’t even need to be here, you have his care handled,” Lorenzo chuckles.

“He will be locked down,” you joke.

The night passes quick and soon you and Charles are home alone for the first time in a long time. You take the opportunity to get in a run while Charles takes a nap, but when you get home he is in the kitchen.

“Hey, I’m making us lunch,” Charles greets you as you pull off your headphones.

“Yum. I’m going to take a quick shower then I’ll be back,” you say, eager to clean the sweat off you.

The two of you quickly fall into a routine. Charles for the most part rests, keeping his ankle propped, but he does occasionally join you in the gym to keep active a bit. He also does his best to help you clean and prep the house for the group of guys who are crashing your home.

“All of our privacy, gone so fast,” Charles pouts while you make a bed.

“I know, it’s only for a few days though,” you try and find the bright side. Summer break is passing quickly and a part of you doesn’t want to race again just yet.

“I have a meeting with my commander tomorrow morning,” Charles says. You pause, the white sheet in your hand going taught as your hand grips it tighter.

“What about?”

“I’m not sure, maybe about the medical check yesterday,” Charles plays it cool, but you can hear the concern in his voice.

You shove the sheet under the bed, making it slightly more aggressive than before. “You don’t think-“

“It’s possible. The check went well, I’m making progress healing, but I will still have to go through PT and make other clearances for fly again. I still have three months of recovery and some more physical therapy on top of that,” Charles says.

“But you’d still have time left in your commitment,”

“I know, I just need to be ready for anything they may say,” Charles sighs.

“I’m right by your side, whatever happens,” you take his hand. Charles gives you a small smile, heart swelling at the support.

“Thank you, mon ange. Now, tell me all about how you are going to win this year,” you finish making the bed and sit down on the edge. Charles sits beside you, hand sliding down your palm to interlock your fingers.

“I’m trying not to think about it or really speak on it. I feel like the past few years it’s been like a dangling carrot, just out of reach. I want it so bad but I’m so nervous that I won’t get it,” you admit, feeling like a bit of weight is off your shoulders. It doesn’t help that you haven’t signed a contract yet for the next year and beyond.

“You are the best driver I know. You are persistent and resilient, you have worked so hard to get to this point. If you don’t win your fans will still love you just the same as they will when you do win and I will love you even more regardless of the outcome,” Charles returns your support. You feel the warmth of his free hand brush away a stray tear on your cheek.

“There is no one else that I want to go through life with other than you,” your voice breaks slightly, thick with emotion.

“I feel the same way. I love you more and more every day,” Charles leans closer to you, a feeling from deep within telling him that everything will be okay.

[mochiwonz]

― YOU'RE JUST A STRANGER s.jaeyun

PAIRING. fem!reader x nonidol bf!jake CONTENT. angst , jake is kind-of a jerk (╥﹏╥) , breakup , cursing WORD COUNT. 1,281 NOTE. omg i've wanted to write an angsty fic for awhile so this is me finally doing it :3 the plot is kinda ass so i apologize T v T pls remember this is all just fiction !! hope you enjoy ♡

You were convinced that Jake was the best boyfriend anyone could ever have. He was insanely good-looking, dressed well, loved his family and friends, and had a loving personality. Jake always made time for you and never went a day without checking up on you. He even told you that he would marry you one day and that you guys would have three kids and one dog. Frankly, he was really just perfect.

Well, until he wasn't.

When you first met Jake, you guys were sophomores in highschool. You guys had met in your science class and ended up becoming close friends. After growing closer to him, you realized you had some pretty strong feelings for him. And surely enough, he felt the same way about you, too.

So in Junior year, he confessed to you and of course you said yes. How could you not? Throughout the next year, you felt as if life couldn't be any better. Your first love also loved you, and he was also possibly the most charming man on earth!

However, things quickly changed.

Fast forward a year and a half later, you guys graduated and quickly moved in together. But Jake was no longer the same. He was no longer the sweet boy that showed his love and affection for you. Instead, he was closed off. He never started conversations with you, you always had to be the one to start it. Jake was just becoming more distant.

Why? Why was your own boyfriend distancing himself from you? Did you do something wrong?

It was now 7:40 pm and Jake had still not answered your texts. Jake always answered, or well- he used to always answer.

baby i'm omw to the grocery store and i'll make us some dinner tonight <3

jake i just saw a dog that looks so much like layla lol

jake?? i haven't heard from you since you left this morning, r u okay?

i'm not trying to bother u jake but i'm rly worried pls atleast txt me back :(

You didn't know what to think. Was he ignoring you on purpose? Did you accidentally make a mistake? Was he falling out of love with you? Was he cheating on you?

No way, he couldn't. Yes he had been distant, but no, Jake would never. You wish he could just give you an explanation, at least.

You were just about to call him until you heard footsteps entering the apartment.

Jake's finally home.

You walk over to Jake and worryingly bombard him with questions while hugging him.

"baby...how're you? where were you today? did your phone die-"

He cuts you off.

"quit being so fucking nosey y/n." he says, sounding pissed off.

What? Did you just hear that right? And why did he sound and look so mad?

"jake...what? I was just worried..." you tell him, your voice laced with a bit of shock.

"i'm a grown ass man, i can take care of myself." he responds, not looking at you while pushing you away from his chest.

He quickly walks over to the fridge and grabs himself a cup of coffee- coffee that you made for him, hoping maybe he'd thank you or acknowledge you.

Not to your surprise, he just grabs it and walks to the sofa. Not one glance, not one "thank you". Nothing.

"hey jake, did i do something wrong? if so i'm sorr-"

And again, he cuts you off.

"can you just shut up please, you didn't do anything wrong." he tells you, and you're not convinced. How could you be?

"okay well then why have you been such an ass towards me? please just give me a fucking explanation" you say while sitting beside him on the sofa.

You notice how he moves away from you, and you can't help but feel a little frustrated.

"maybe it's because i'm sick of you always bothering me y/n."

Bothering him? You've only ever tried to care for him. Fuck, you can feel your eyes getting watery.

The room feels cold, even though the heater is on. There is no longer that warmth- the comforting warmth that you oh so loved. Things had really changed, and you really fucking hated it.

"bothering you? jake i'm your girlfriend, all i'm trying to do is love and care for you. i-"

"okay then just stop. stop loving and caring for me." he says in a louder tone of voice.

Now you're really frustrated. What the fuck is happening with Jake?

"what the fuck is wrong with you? jake, what the fuck?"

"nothing is fucking wrong with me y/n. maybe i'm just tired of your ass. maybe i'm just not in love with you anymore."

Did he just- oh. So you were right. He really doesn't love you anymore.

"jake you could've just told me you didn't love me anymore. you could've just told me so i didn't have to be put through this shit, and so that you could've just left." you tell him, your eyes filled with tears.

"i couldn't tell you because i know you would fucking cry like a crybaby."

You felt your heart break into two. The man you loved, your once sweet boyfriend, was now treating you like you were nothing to him.

And in Jake's eyes, you really were nothing to him anymore.

"jake what the fuck i-" you try to speak but you're choked up. And fuck, you feel the first tear fall and next thing you know- you're sobbing.

"see, look- you're crying. i knew you'd fucking cry. and shit, you're an ugly crier too. i can't keep up with your shit anymore y/n, i'm tired. you always treat me like i'm a baby, making me food and shit. just stop. i'm leaving and this is over. we're over. bye y/n" he says while getting up from the couch.

You feel numb. Your first love just stabbed you, right in the heart.

Before you could say anything back, he'd already grabbed his bag and jacket and was on his way to the front door. And this time, you knew he wasn't going to come back.

You quickly get up and run to the front door, stopping him in his tracks.

"jake can you atleast look at me please-" you tell him and he listens and looks at you. However, his stare is emotionless.

"please jake can i hug you one last time?...please" you ask, voice shaky from your sobbing.

"sure whatever" he responds in an annoyed tone of voice.

You slowly bring yourself closer to him and rest your head in his chest and wrap your arms around him. But you didn't feel that same warmth. You didn't feel any sort of love or comfort that you hoped you would.

He just stood there. He didn't wrap his arms around your waist and kiss the top of your head like he used to. Of course he wouldn't. You just missed the old jake.

"okay y/n that's enough. i'll get going" he tells you while unwrapping your arms.

You can't find any words to say to him, you really can't. You just stand there, looking and feeling like a complete mess.

"bye" jake says as he walks out the door.

You don't say "bye" back to him, because you can't.

You're just standing there, frozen, numb. You just watch him as he leaves. You watch him leave the apartment as your boyfriend, for the last time ever.

And then, the door closes. He wasn't your boyfriend anymore and you weren't his girlfriend anymore. And no you wouldn't be calling him your ex boyfriend or your first love.

If anything, you would call him a complete and total stranger.

part 2 is here and my other works are here ! pls reblog if you enjoyed :))